Paw Print
by RAEng
Summary: Rachel Black returns home only to be imprinted on by Paul Lahote. Paul desperately attempts to find a way into her heart that she's determined to keep closed off. A classic story with a brand new twist!
1. Imprint

Paul ran his hand through his messy hair. Jacob Black was a pain in his ass. Stupid little Jacob had to run away like a little baby when his precious leech-lover picked Count Dracula over him. To be honest, though, Paul didn't blame the girl for not wanting Jacob. He was such a whiny baby all the time. Now, he thought he would be celebrating with Jacob finally out of his hair. Unfortunately he was wrong. Chief Swan went and put up poster all over Forks. It seemed like Charlie cared more about Jacob than Bella ever did. Anyway, Paul had just come from talking with Charlie. For the past half hour, he had to feign interest in Jacob's disappearance. He had to pretend to care about his pain-in-the-ass pack mate. He had to pretend that he had no clue where the idiot was.

Charlie gave Paul a stack of fliers and a roll of masking tape. Charlie instructed him to put one up on every pole. "Make sure to tape it well, son. Wrap the tape about twice if you need to." Paul tried his best to nod without rolling his eyes. The urge to roll his eyes was strong, but he managed to hold off. "And put these up, too," said Charlie. Paul looked down at the new stack of papers in his hand. It was a message to Jacob, pleading for him to come home. "And here; take these," said Charlie, "give one it everyone you see. We're going to find him, son. Don't worry." _Oh, believe me, I'm not worried._ Charlie rested a hand on Paul's shoulder. "I'm going to make sure your friend gets home."

"Ah. Thanks Chief Swan. I'll get on this right away," said Paul. Paul figured he should probably put up a few posters to make it look like he was working hard. He finally made it down Whistle Crest Road and decided to hit the beach. The cool water would probably calm him down a bit. In the distance he spotted a female figure in an otherwise empty beach. He watched her intently as she knelt down to retrieve a flat stone. She drew her arm back and flicked her wrist, launching the stone out into the ocean to skip an impressive six times. Granted, Paul could skip a stone several dozen times, but he wasn't entirely human.

Paul was so mesmerized by her actions that he didn't realise that his feet carried him all the way to her. When he approached her, she turned slightly to face him. He noticed how much shorter she was and that she had to look up a bit to meet his eyes. She had the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. They were big and round and dark with hazel around the centre in a pattern like the spokes of a bicycle wheel. It was then that Paul felt his stomach churn like he was free-falling. It was then that he somehow stopped breathing. It was then that he felt an odd sense of completeness and euphoria with the girl in front of him.

Paul was disappointed when her eyes looked away from his. He realized she was looking at the posters in his hand. She frowned. Even when she frowned she was beautiful. "You're looking for my brother?" she asked Paul. _Brother?_ _Oh god._ The fates sure loved to play around with Paul's life. "Um, yeah. Don't worry, we're going to find him, Rachel."

"Oh," said Rachel. "Wait, how do you know my name? Have we met before?"

"No, we haven't met before," _I'm sure of it. I'd remember a beautiful creature like yourself._ "I just remember Jake talking about his sisters."

"But how did you know I was Rachel and not Rebecca?" That was an excellent question. They were identical twins and Jake had mentioned how he could tell them apart. Or maybe he did say, and Paul just tuned him out like he always did. Either way, Paul wasn't sure how he knew. He just did. It was some sort of intuition.

Paul shrugged. "Lucky guess, I guess." Rachel nodded.

"So, you're friends with my brother?"

Were they friends? No. Definitely not. And the feeling was mutual; they hated each other. "Yeah, we're friends," said Paul. Rachel only nodded solemnly. "I came to give you one of these," Paul held up a flyer to show her, "but I'm guessing you don't need one." Rachel shook her head. She was clearly torn up about her brother's disappearance. Now Paul had two reasons to get Jake's sorry ass back to La Push: to put an end to all this pointless work, and to make his imprint happy again. "Well, I'm handing these out to everyone I see around here. Would you like to come with me?" _Please say yes. Please say yes._

"Yeah, sure," said Rachel. "He's my brother anyway. I should be doing this, not you. I really appreciate you and everyone else trying to find Jake. So, thanks – ,"

"Paul," he supplied. "Paul Lahote."

"It's good to meet you, Paul." Rachel stretched out her hand which Paul gladly took into his. It was like silk under his fingers. He wished that society hadn't decided that a normal handshake only lasted a few seconds long. He wished it were longer so he could continue to hold her hand. She pulled back her hand and Paul relished in the feel of her hand sliding against his.

"Likewise, Rachel." Paul offered her a kind smile. He was pleased when she returned his smile with one of her own. He decided he quite liked her smile. She had straight shite teeth surrounded by full reddish-pink lips. He decided that was all he ever wanted to see; a smile on her lips. And if bringing her brother back was going to make her smile, then he'd have to go fetch her brother.

They walked in comfortable silence before Rachel's melodic voice said, "My brother didn't tell you anything about him leaving, did he?"

"Uh, not really, no."

"Oh god." Rachel buried her face in her hands. Paul's hand ghosted her upper back. He wasn't sure if he was allowed to touch her.

"Rachel, what's wrong?"

Rachel took a moment to take a ragged breath before answering. "What if something bad happened to him? Why else would he disappear with no word?" How could Paul ease her soul without giving away any confidential information?

"Well, actually, I think it's more like a vacation. Just to get away from La Push and all the drama."

Paul's attempt to sooth her failed. This time she took two ragged breaths before she was able to speak. "I'm a horrible older sister and daughter. I don't know what's going on in my family's lives… Jake ran away… Oh god." Paul wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't very good at comforting and he didn't want to say the wrong thing. Luckily he didn't have to say anything because Rachel spoke again. Unluckily Rachel said, "Why are you putting up these posters if you think he willingly took a vacation?"

"Oh, you know… just… in case, I guess." Paul didn't want to brag, but normally he was pretty good at lying. Lying to your imprint is another story though. It's much harder.

"So you _do_ think he might be in danger or something?"

"Uh, no, no. He's definitely not in danger… We all just want him to come home. Hopefully he'll see a poster and realize how much this tribe wants him to come home." _Smooth._ Rachel just nodded and dropped the subject, which was more than fine with Paul.

Rachel held the flyer against the pole while Paul unravelled the clear masking tape and wrapped it around the flyer and pole. "So Rachel, why haven't I seen you around before?" If he was stuck putting up missing posters for a guy who wasn't actually missing and a guy who he didn't even like, then he might as well use it to his advantage and get to know Rachel.

"I was away in Washington for school for the past three years."

"Oh, that's cool. So are you going back in the fall to finish then?" Paul wasn't sure how this was going to work. Washington University was nine hours away. How could they stand to be so far apart? "No, I'm finished my degree, actually." What a huge relief.

"So what did you study?"

"Majored in neuroscience with a double minor in genetics and psychology."

"Wow. That's impressive. Beauty and brains; are you sure you're related to Jake?" Rachel laughed her pretty laugh. It was music to Paul's ears. He would spend the rest of his life trying to get her to make that beautiful sound again. Rachel looked away shyly after that. "So what are you going to do with your fancy degree?"

"I'm not sure yet. La Push doesn't offer too many options. I'll probably have to go back to Washington and find some work there once my brother come back home." _Great._ Now Paul was going to have to keep Jake away so he could have more time with Rachel. On one hand, having Jake back would make her happy, on the other hand having Jake back would in turn send Rachel away. There was no winning for Paul. Why were the fates being so unfair to him.

This time Paul was silent, unsure of what to say. Rachel asked a question this time. "You go to school with my brother?"

"Yeah," said Paul, hesitantly. He knew there was a bit of an age gap between them. He didn't care though. In fact he kind of liked it that she was an older woman but he wasn't sure of what Rachel would think. Four years wasn't a lot in the long run, but when one party is seventeen while the other party is twenty one, that might be a turn off. He decided to keep it short and sweet with anything to do with his age.

"And he was passing his classes, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I think so," said Paul. Paul wasn't sure if _he_ was even passing his own classes. He'd already missed so much class due to patrol and Jake's leech-lover crisis.

"So what made him leave?" asked Rachel. Paul stopped taping posters and looked at Rachel. Truth be told, he was looking at her the entire time, but only inconspicuously from the corner of his eyes. This time he looked straight into her eyes. He could see that her eyes were glistening, and not glistening like there was a sparkle, but glistening with tears. He decided to go with the truth. "Your brother fell in love with a girl named Bella. You might remember her from when you were kids. She used him and tossed him aside when she was done with him. He's heartbroken."

Rachel sighed and averted her gaze to the cement. "Oh, Jake," she whispered. Then much louder to Paul she said, "I should have been there for him. Maybe then he wouldn't have run away." Paul finger reached out under Rachel's chin to bring her eyes back up to his. "Trust me, Rach, there was nothing that you could have done to stop him. There was nothing anybody could have done. He's stubborn but I know he'll be back eventually. So please don't worry yourself over it."

It was a perfect moment for Paul to go in for a sweet kiss. He slowly leaned inwards, giving her plenty of time to back out if she wanted to. She didn't. Just inches away, he could smell the sugar from her breath. Things were progressing well, in Paul's opinion… until an all too familiar male voice shouted out, "Rachel Black is back in town?!" Rachel _Black_ sounded wrong, like nails on a chalkboard. It should be Rachel _Lahote_. Yes, that sounded so much nicer.

Rachel jumped back away from Paul. Both turned to the direction of the voice. The figure jogged forward and closed the distance in no time. "Look at you, Miss Black, our favourite college grad! Have you shrunk?" teased Embry.

This brought a smile to Rachel's face. Paul immediately felt jealously. How dare this idiot come over and make his imprint smile. Embry picked Rachel up off the ground in a tight embrace. He spun her around, making her laugh. Paul noticed his lips were dangerously close to her neck. Paul let out a barely audible growl. Embry set her back down. "Embry, you're a giant!" exclaimed Rachel and she took in his physique. Paul wished that Rachel would notice his body like that. "I remember when you used to be a scrawny little kid playing Barbie with Becky and I." Paul chucked at that.

"If I remember correctly, we were playing with super manly G.I. Joe action figures," retorted Embry. Rachel scoffed. "Get real. That was just Ken in a green suit and you know it."

"Alright, alright," Embry conceded with his hands raised in surrender. "So what's going on, Rach? Is Paul bothering you? Want me to take care of him?" said Embry, with a mischievous smile. Rachel shook her head. "I'm," Rachel took a shaky breath, "helping Paul put up these posters for my brother." Her voice trailed off towards the end. Embry's smile disappeared.

"Rachel, he's not missing. Or lost. I think he wants to be a yoga master and figured he would start in a nice cave in Canada," Embry told Rachel, giving her the partial truth and a partial lie. Paul wanted to punch Embry's lights out. _A yoga master, really?_

"Canada?!" Rachel exclaimed. "But Paul told me he left because he's heartbroken over some girl." Rachel's brows scrunched together. Embry quickly glanced to Paul whose eyes were narrowed and shook his head. "Oh, well, yeah. Meditation is good for the soul and stuff I think. You know, good for getting over girls and all," amended Embry.

"But Canada? Couldn't he just do his soul mending stuff here in La Push?" Embry shook his head. "Well… Let's go to Canada then. We'll find him and bring him home!" said Rachel in desperation. Paul had enough of Embry. He wasn't going to let Embry do anymore talking. Feeling brave, Paul lightly took Rachel's hand in his and turned her to face him.

"Canada is a huge place. We'll never find him. But what if we go to Seattle and Vancouver and we can put up posters there? Maybe he'll see them and come home," offered Paul.

"Okay." Rachel seemed to immediately calm down at the sound of Paul's soothing voice and comforting words. Paul gave her a loving smile, which Embry duly noted. Another smile crept on Embry's face.

"So when do we leave, guys?" asked Embry, breaking their moment. Paul shot Embry another murderous look, trying to tell him that he was not invited. He wanted to have Rachel all to himself without Embry meddling in the way.

"You know what Embry, we'll probably go when you're busy with work. So don't worry we'll take care of the posters in Seattle and Vancouver."

"Nah, that's nonsense," said Embry with a dismissive wave of the hand. "Jake's my best buddy. Of course I'll come. I don't see why you're going though. You hate the guy," said Embry.

"What? No. You're not coming, and Jake's my buddy."

"Really? I didn't know that _buddies_ broke each other's noses," retorted Embry. _Damn Embry for being an ass._

"That never happened. You must be thinking of Leah. She probably broke his nose. I would never to that to a good buddy of mine." Paul tried to keep his voice level, but his patience with Embry was wearing thin.

"Ah, yes you're right," nodded Embry. "I know I'm right," ground out Paul through clenched teeth. "So maybe you should go and get ready for work, don't you think?"

"Nah, Sam's given me the day off. We're having a bonfire soon," said Embry as he turned to Rachel. "Sam heard you were back in town and wanted to invite you to join us."

"Oh, I don't know, Embry. We've got a lot of posters to put up and," Embry cut her off. "Hey Paul can finish that stuff. Come on with me, the others are dying to see you." Embry took her wrist in his large hand and dragged her away. Rachel looked to Paul with an apologetic smile. She mouthed the word _sorry_ to him as she was pulled away by Embry. If Rachel wasn't watching Paul, he probably would have phase on the spot. First Embry comes to screw with him, then he drags her away. If he slipped his hand into hers, he would have lost it. Luckily Embry was smart enough not to take her hand.

The bonfire was already lit and roaring to life when Paul arrived. He looked around to find his imprint encircled in a crowd of friends. It seemed like she had already reconciled with old friends and met the new additions to the group. "Sup, Paul?" Quil called over in a singsong voice, as Paul approached. Paul just gave a head nod. He heard a few snickers and giggles coming from the group. No doubt, word had already spread that he imprinted on Rachel Black.

Intentionally, there was no space for Paul to sit beside Rachel. Quil and Embry sandwiched her, left and right. Paul settled for sitting on the other side of the bonfire, directly in front of her. At least he would be able to watch her from a good angle. She was laughing at something Quil said. Then her head turned and caught Paul's gaze from across the fire. She gave him a shy smile, which he returned with his own and a complementary hand wave.

Paul noticed how she was wearing her hair differently than earlier. It was down and slightly wavy. She was wearing dark jeans and a red tank top. Unfortunately for Paul, he noticed a sweater sitting by her side. It's too bad she thought ahead and brought an extra layer. Now he wouldn't have an excuse to have her wear his sweater, or to keep her warm with his arms. Paul prayed for an extreme gust of cold weather to come in the next hour or so.

Finally the food came out. This was Paul's chance. He knew Embry and Quil would never pass up food just to mess with him. As Paul expected, the boys left Rachel's side for food. Normally Paul himself would be at the front of the line for food, but he wanted to be with Rachel. He joined her at the back of the line. "Are you having a good time?" Paul asked her.

She nodded. "Yeah, it's great to be back. I haven't been to a bonfire in years. I almost forgot how much fun they were."

When it was their turn to get food, Paul made a mental note of what she put on her plate. He wanted to know everything about her, from her likes to her dislikes. She had one hot dog with just ketchup on it, a small scoop of fries, and some raw carrots, cauliflower, and broccoli. Paul's plate was a mountain of food with a little bit of everything. He almost laughed at how much more food he had than her. Then again, she was pretty small. If he had to guess, she was probably 5'2", while he stood over a foot taller than her.

He almost fainted when he discovered that she was left handed, like him. So much in common! He hoped nobody ever found out about that thought. If any of his pack mates had thought that, he probably would have beaten them up for being so lame.

He wanted a chance to talk to Rachel alone and learn more about her, but Quil, Claire, Embry, Jared, and Kim returned to sit with them. Paul had a hard time focusing on the conversation around their circle. He was too engrossed with watching Rachel to be listening to Quil spout about whatever new video game he was playing.

At least he was sitting beside Rachel this time. He wanted to shift infinitesimally closer to her body, but his stupid werewolf pack mates with their stupid werewolf senses would be able to pick up on his lame attempt to be closer to his imprint. Jared made it a point to put his arm around Kim's waist and pull her close. Paul inwardly cursed his friend for rubbing it in his face that he wasn't allowed to touch his imprint yet.

Paul noted that he finished his dinner much faster than Rachel did, even though she must have had about a fifth of the amount of his food. When she was done, he offered to get her some desert. "Oh, that's okay. I'll go with you."

"You can get me some dessert, Paul," said Quil in a singsong voice. "Me, too," added Embry with a smug smile. Paul had no choice but to take their plates with him back to the dessert table. At the table, he watched as Rachel picked mostly fruits: grapes, cantaloupe, watermelon, and strawberries. She passed on the oranges, pineapple, and grapefruit. _So she liked sweet fruits._ Paul, on the other hand, loaded up on the baked goods: cake, pie, cookies, and tartes. He got the boys some good old wafer cookies and fruit cake. _They get what they deserve_. He felt bad and stuck a few good desserts onto Quil's plate for Clair. She shouldn't have to suffer because her imprinter was being a jerk.

As they headed back to their seats, they passed Sam. "Sammy," said Paul good-naturedly, "how's about some Hannah Montana?" Paul cocked his head towards his group of friends. Sam understood and gave a nod and a wink. Rachel was confused about their little exchange, but didn't question it.

"Really Paul?" said Embry, with annoyance.

Paul gave an innocent shrug. "What? I thought you boys liked your wafers. Oh, and the cookies are for Claire." Kim and Jared snickered from their seat. The familiar opening melody of the Hannah Montana _Hoedown Throw Down_ began to play on the speakers. Claire squealed and hopped off Quil's lap and tugged on his hand. She wanted to dance and she wanted Quil to accompany her. The little squirt couldn't resist a good Hannah Montana song. Rachel laughed as she watched the two dance. Quil was a pretty uncoordinated dancer, for a werewolf with exceptional coordination.

 _Two down, three to go_. Paul looked around and scouted out his resources. _Ah ha! Leah!_ "Hey, Leah! Did you ever find your shirt?" The last time they phased, Embry thought it would be a hilarious prank to snatch Leah's shirt. She had her sports bra still, but she wasn't pleased. She had almost let it go, or rather she just buried the grudge to save for later.

"No," she said, raising one eyebrow. Embry looked nervous. "Oh, that's too bad. What did it look like again? Was it red with a little pocket?" asked Paul.

"Yeah…" said Leah slowly. "Oh, hey, Embry! You have a shirt just like that in your drawers. What a funny coincidence."

Embry was sweating bullets now. Leah barred her teeth and let out a growl. "Call, your ass is mine." Embry sprinted away. Paul chuckled, knowing that Embry didn't stand a chance to outrun her. Paul turned to Jared and Kim. No words were exchanged until Jared said, "Uh, I think we're going to go see what Emily's doing."

Finally at last he had Rachel all to himself. He turned to face her. "You know what, I'd better get going. I've got to check up on my dad…" Paul wanted to groan. It sounded like she was trying to avoid him. But didn't she feel the imprint, too? Didn't she want to be near him as much as he wanted to be near her? Earlier she seemed to like him. "I'll walk you home," offered Paul.

"Oh, that's not necessary. You should stay and enjoy the rest of the bonfire." _But I won't enjoy it without you_ he wanted to say. Instead he said, "Really, it's-"

"Paul, come here. We need help!" interrupted one of the younger boys. He was going to strangle them later. Paul ignored their demand. "As I was saying, it's-"

"PAUL!" a different boy shouted this time. "I think you'd better go help them," Rachel offered sweetly. "I'll see you around, Paul."

Paul sighed in defeat. "Yeah, I'll see you around, Rachel." Maybe she had a boyfriend already. That, Paul might be able to live with… for now, that is. If she had a current boyfriend then he could always win her over. Or beat the crap out of her boyfriend. But if she just didn't like him, then Paul's entire existence would crumble.

Paul got back home late that night. He was tired and just wanted to go to bed, but he had more important matters on hand at the moment. He booted up his computer and typed her name into the search bar. She was the first result that popped up. He clicked on her profile picture. It was a beautiful candid shot of her laughing. Suddenly he wanted to know what exactly it was that made her smile so beautifully.

She was wearing a black dress that was fitted at the top and flared out at her waist, ending a little above her knees. He checked the date of the post. _December 20_ _th_ _, 2006._ It was taken this past winter, likely during a holiday party. He wanted to know more about her picture but there was no caption. He scrolled through the comments. Standard comments like _you're gorgeous,_ or _what a babe_ were left by her friends. It didn't give him any information. He already knew she was gorgeous.

He wanted to view more photos but it looked like she had privacy setting on the rest. He clicked on her information tab, hoping to find something. Nothing. No likes, or interests, or hobbies were listed. Not even information like her birthday or gender appeared visible. Most importantly, no relationship status was visible. _Ah ha_! Her tagged photos were public. He flipped through them, skimming over the ones that she wasn't even present in. There was one with her standing beside a guy who had his arm around her shoulders. _They could be just friends_. The next photo was Rachel and the same guy at the gym. Another photo of Rachel and the guy. These were recent photos. They were posted just a few weeks ago. He'd have to do more investigating later. He really hoped that she didn't already have a boyfriend… Or if she did, he hoped that she would dump him soon.

He wanted to shoot her a friend request, but he wasn't sure if there was some sort of social rule about waiting an appropriate time to send a friend request after meeting someone. He didn't want to seem too eager or anything, but he really did want to see the rest of her photos and information. He also wanted to send her a message so they could start chatting. He really wanted to get to know her. Soon enough he wouldn't need FaceBook to contact her. He'd get her phone number soon. Then he would be able to text her messages first thing in the morning and last thing before bed so she'd always wake up thinking about him and go to sleep thinking about him.

Paul stripped off his t-shirt and jeans and threw himself face first onto his bed. He hoped that someday he'd have Rachel beside him to snuggle close to. He'd keep her warm and safe throughout the night. Paul fell asleep immediately, being carried off to sweet dreams of his perfect imprint, Rachel Black. Today was the first day of the rest of his life.

Author's note:

I hope you enjoyed this! There is plenty more to come, so stay tuned! Please give me a review! It'll help me write the next chapter faster!

(P.S. I'm sorry for the small time discrepancies. I don't know the exact timeline from the books so that Hannah Montana song may not have existed during the setting of the story. Oh well, who doesn't love to time travel?)


	2. Voiceprint

It had been four days and Rachel still hadn't accepted his Facebook friend request. He was getting pretty tired of just staring at her profile picture. He needed new material to memorize. Paul wondered why she wouldn't accept his request. He considered that maybe she just didn't go online very often. Or maybe she didn't like him very much. Oh god, if she didn't like him, Paul didn't know what he would do. She _had_ to like him, right? Wasn't that part of the imprint code, or something?

He decided to creep through her friends on Facebook. Maybe he would find something. He was still really curious about that guy in her recent photos. According to the tags, Dylan Quinn was his name. He was about a head taller than Rachel was, assuming they were standing on level ground. He had a bit of a tan to his skin and dark brown hair. His face had a childish roundness making it difficult to place his age. To Paul's horror, there were several more guys in the following pictures. He suddenly felt betrayed by Rachel.

Paul was aware that he was being unreasonable. She was allowed to have male friends. Even if those guys were her past boyfriends, that was in the past. He surely had a past of his own with random girls from school. From _high_ school. Paul had only ever been with girls around his age. He'd never been with an older college graduate. Rachel had probably been with college guys. Guys that were intelligent and sophisticated. Guys that were going to make a good living and live a comfortable life. Thinking about his past and Rachel's probable past made him feel sick to his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't good enough for her. She'd never want him after knowing what college boys could offer her.

As sad and pathetic as Paul thought he was, he couldn't get Rachel off his mind. He wanted to see her so he threw on a pair of shorts he found lying around and a t-shirt from his drawer. It was early in the morning; almost 7am. He knew that was far too early to go knocking on doors, but he was going insane without having seen Rachel in four days.

Listening carefully, Paul could tell one body was awake in the house. He hoped it was Rachel, but somehow he already knew it was Billy. He knocked anyway. Ten seconds later Paul heard the rolling of wheels get louder as Billy approached. The door opened to reveal Billy, whose polite smile faltered for a moment before recovering. Paul got the feeling that Billy wasn't too enthusiastic about his visit. Paul could understand why, though. He and Jake never really got along. Jake probably whined to his dad about Paul all the time. Plus, Paul was quite certain that Billy knew about the imprint already.

Paul suddenly felt awkward. He felt like he should have come talk to Billy about the imprint, rather than have Billy find out through the town gossip. Maybe that would have been the responsible thing to do. Maybe that would have helped make a good impression on Billy. But then again, this _was_ the twenty first century after all. Paul shouldn't need to ask permission from a girl's father to see her, especially when she was a grown woman. So really, he was respecting Rachel's independence as a woman by not speaking to Billy, right? And that was a good thing, right?

Paul cleared his throat. "Good morning, Sir." Paul had never called him _Sir_ before. Paul wondered if that too much now. He didn't want to sound like a suck-up.

Billy nodded. "Paul," he greeted. There was silence between them as they simply regarded each other. Paul was hoping Billy would invite him in, or willingly offer him some information about Rachel. He didn't. Paul was going to have to initiate the conversation himself. "How are you, Sir?"

"Oh, I'm just fine," said Billy, politely, but not polite enough to reciprocate the question.

"Good to hear. I was just wondering how Rachel was doing," said Paul.

"Well she's sleeping right now. It _is_ only 7am."

"Right, right," said Paul. He was getting the feeling that he was unwelcome around here. "Is there a message you'd like to leave for her, son?" asked Billy. Billy had just called him _son_! Paul was almost certain that Billy called him _son_ on reflex. He and the other elders call all the boys _son_. Even so, Paul suddenly felt hopeful. One day he would be Billy's son-in-law and Billy would call him _son_ all the time.

Paul smiled. "Not really, I was just hoping to see how she was holding up." Paul thought that sounded thoughtful.

"I see," said Billy. "And you two are going to go to Seattle and Vancouver, is that right? To put up posters for her _missing_ brother. That's very _kind_ of you, Paul." Billy had a special gift of being able to say positive words while leaving you with a negative feeling. Billy was insinuating that Paul was taking advantage of her.

"It's not like that, Sir. I just want to ease her worry. I'll do whatever I can without…" Paul was trying to choose his words carefully, "compromising her safety or wellbeing. No need to worry her with… any unnecessary or supplementary information." Paul wanted to give himself a pat on the back for stringing those words together in an uncharacteristically eloquent way.

Billy nodded, looking unconvinced still. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Paul?" Billy was politely kicking him out. "That's it, Sir." Paul hadn't had very much practice talking to girls' fathers in the past. The girls he saw never brought him home to meet her parents, and that was just fine with Paul because he didn't care to meet them. Now he was almost regretting not meeting those girls' parents. If he did, then he'd have valuable experience and he'd know what to say to Billy now. He'd know how to charm Rachel's father.

Paul came back around noon and was pleased to find Rachel alone in the house. Billy must have gone over to Sue Clearwater's house for lunch. He knocked on the wooden door and waited for her light footsteps to approach. He was surprised not to hear the sound of the lock unclicking. He would have to have a word with her about leaving the door unlocked. As safe at the res was, he didn't want her leaving the door unlocked. "Paul!" said Rachel. It was a relief to Paul to see that she was much more pleased to see him than Billy was.

"Hey, Rach," Paul smiled. "How's it going?" She opened the door a little farther. Paul's smile disappeared as he noticed she looked thinner, paler, and more tired than when he saw her four days ago. "Are you feeling alright?" Something was wrong. He thought she might be sick. He was angry with Billy for not telling him about Rachel's state. Paul didn't wait for Rachel to answer his question. He placed the back of his hand on her forehead. She didn't feel any warmer than usual. "Paul, I'm fine, but I think you're the one that's not." Oh no. He had over stepped the boundaries. She didn't appreciate him coming into her personal space like that.

He was about to apologize when her voice spoke again. "You're burning!" she exclaimed. That was a huge relief to Paul. She was concerned for him, not scolding him!

"No, I'm fine. I'm always this warm."

Rachel didn't look like she believed him. "That's what all the boys are saying. Are you sure you all haven't caught something?"

"Positive, Rachel," said Paul, eager to get back to talking about her health instead of his.

"Well, I checked Embry's lymph nodes the other day, against his will," said Rachel. Paul only knew of three places where lymph nodes were found: underarms, neck, and groin. The thought of Rachel checking one area in particular made him want to vomit and also strangle Embry. "His neck felt a little swollen. He might have mono. Maybe you've caught something from him recently," suggested Rachel.

Paul's urge to vomit disappeared when Rachel confirmed that she only checked his neck. Then Paul realized what that meant. Why was that ass always so lucky? He wished Rachel would touch his neck instead of Embry's. He took calming deep breaths, as subtly as he could, to control his bubbling rage. It wasn't subtle enough. "Paul?" asked Rachel timidly. "Are you alright?" Paul closed his eyes for a moment. He imagined what her hands on his neck would feel like: soft and soothing on his skin. Then he wanted to imagine what her hands would feel like against his neck if they were kissing. That brought a new thought to mind: what would her lips feel like against his neck? Paul decided to keep his thoughts of a tight leash. Letting them run wild would only torment himself more.

"Yeah," he answered. "But you're not, Rachel. Have you gotten any sleep lately?" Billy said she was asleep when he came over, but she looked so tired she couldn't have gotten much sleep in the past few days.

"Yeah, I've been sleeping," said Rachel almost defensively. Paul took that as a sign that she was lying.

"Right." Paul agreed sarcastically. "And let me guess, you've also been eating too?"

" _Yes_ ," said Rachel, through clenched teeth. Paul didn't mean to make her angry, but she couldn't just deprive herself of food and sleep. He wasn't going to allow it.

Paul raised his hands in surrender. "Okay," said Paul, though not fully convinced. He didn't want to make her any angrier so he figured he would change the subject. "So, Seattle and Vancouver?" Rachel's scowl disappeared and was replaced with a hopeful smile.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "When?"

 _I'd go anywhere, anytime for you._ Instead he said, "Whenever you're ready to go."

"Let's figure out when everyone else is free to go," suggested Rachel.

Paul was planning this to be a two person trip. No need for the guys to give him a hard time throughout the whole trip. "Well, a lot of the guys are busy these days. And we really do want to get going as soon as possible, right? The sooner we get those posters up the sooner Jake might come home." Paul was using her anxiety to his advantage which he knew was wrong, but he couldn't stop himself.

"You're right. So tomorrow then?" asked Rachel.

"Sure. It's a long drive to Seattle so we should hit the road early in the morning. I'll come by around five, we'll get to Seattle by ten, then put up posters for a few hours. We'll hit the road again and hopefully get to Vancouver before the day ends, get a motel or something, put up posters in the morning and then we can head home."

"Okay. That sounds like a good plan," she told him. That sounded like the end of a conversation. Paul wanted to prolong it, but couldn't think of what to say. It was getting awkward now. Four silent seconds had passed.

"Uh, why don't I give you my number? Just in case, or something." Rachel nodded in agreement. She took her phone out and slid it open to reveal a bright blue keyboard. Her thumbs worked quickly to input his information. She handed it to Paul so he could fill in his number. His fingertips felt the edges of stickers on the back of her phone. He flipped it over to reveal several worn stickers on the back.

When he was done he slid her phone closed and pressed the camera button on the side. Very quickly, before Rachel could protest, he took her arm and spun her around. He rested his head atop of hers while his free arm was wrapped around her waist to keep her in place. His body burned wherever her body met his. It was an odd sensation as he hadn't felt warmth since his pre-werewolf days. What was even odder was that her body was much cooler than his and yet it still elicited a potent burning sensation. He wondered if she felt it, too.

He held the phone out in front of them. "Say cheese," he told her. The camera snapped with a mechanical shutter sound. "Aw, that's a keeper!" Paul said after taking a look. He looked genuinely happy in the photo. Rachel, on the other hand, had a stunned look on her face. Her eyes were big and wide, while her lips were slightly parted. Paul thought she looked very cute. "No way. That's not staying. Delete it right now." Paul ignored her request. He set it as his caller I.D. profile.

"Let me see it," demanded Rachel.

"Just a second." Rachel reached for her phone, only Paul was much taller. He raised her phone just out of her reach, much to her chagrin. He sent a text from her phone to his so he could save her number. When he felt a buzz in his pocket he said, "Here," and handed it back. "Don't change it. I like it." Rachel made a sour face when she saw herself. "It's cute," offered Paul. "You can take a photo on my phone and we'll be even, okay?"

Without a word, Rachel stretched out her upturned hand. Paul grinned and placed his phone into her palm. "Well?" asked Rachel, with mock impatience. "Get over here," she motioned for him to join her in the camera frame. Paul shook his head.

"I changed my mind. I want a photo of just you," said Paul. Paul saw the blush creep onto her pale skin. She suddenly got shy and lowered the phone. Paul still wanted a photo, so he took it out of her hand and said, "Here, I'll take it for you." Paul could tell she didn't like being the centre of attention, but he took the photo anyway. Paul though she looked very pretty with her dark hair framing her face and her pink lips slightly upturned at the corners in a shy smile. Even with the camera's poor, 1.6 megapixel resolution, her eyes still had a captivating sparkle. "Beautiful," he muttered. He set it as her caller I.D. photo. Later he would set it to his background screen, too.

Rachel was blushing even harder now. Her cheeks were bright red. He imagined they probably felt warm, too. He briefly wondered if her ears were red as well.

"I'll see you early tomorrow morning," said Paul, finally satisfied with getting her number and a photo. After feeling her body against his once, he was craving her touch again. He pulled her in for a hug, making sure to commit the smell of her neck and her hair to memory. She smelled like vanilla. It wasn't a manmade chemical vanilla scent either. It was a light and fresh scent that only enhanced her natural scent even more. It was intoxicating. Everything about her seemed to stimulate Paul's heightened senses even more. The sight of her beautiful face seemed to have a bright golden glow cast over her that made her so salient in his eyes. It was hard for him to not look at her. The sound of her voice was melodic and soothing like no other lullaby. He could pick out her voice from a mile away. The touch of her skin left a trail of fire and desire. The smell of her skin made his head spin. The only sense that hadn't been sent into overdrive yet was his sense of taste. He desperately wondered what she would taste like. He imagined she would be sweeter than ambrosia and be more addictive than any drug.

Paul spent the afternoon patrolling and came back to the Black's house in the evening. He wished he didn't have to patrol that afternoon. He wanted to text her since he just got her number. It was a little hard to press the tiny buttons with paws for hands, so he didn't get a chance to message her and see what she was up to. Now he would see what she was doing. Luckily it was dark enough that he didn't need to hide in the concealment of the forest trees. He padded up to the house but stayed in the shadows. Peeking through the slit of the curtains, he saw Rachel's figure pass back and forth a few times. From her quick appearances, he gathered that she was wearing pajamas and her hair was tied up. Paul hoped that she was going to sleep. He didn't like seeing her look so fatigued. Paul through he ought to get some sleep, too, but he was far too focused on Rachel. He could only rest knowing that she was sleeping, too.

Sadly, neither of them ended up sleeping that night. Paul watch Rachel the entire night, through the tiny slit between the curtains. She was constantly up and about. Several times she left her room and returned with a hot cup of coffee. He immediately wonder how she liked her coffee. She probably liked lots of sugar and cream, judging by her like for sweet fruits. He wondered what brand she was drinking and if she had a preference. He would have to find out exactly how she liked it prepared because he hoped that one day he would be waking up with her every morning and making her coffee. With his fantasies of the future aside, he wondered why she was drinking so much coffee when she hadn't slept in a while. He wondered why she was purposely trying to prevent herself from sleeping.

Eventually Paul noticed that she stayed put for a while. She stopped passing by the slit in the curtains so Paul had to infer what was going on. She hadn't moved in a while, but her breathing was too quick for her to be asleep. She could have been sitting at her table or lying in bed. Maybe she was reading. Or listening to music. Oh, what Paul wouldn't give to know what she was doing. He went home to shower and get a few items that he would need over the next two days. He'd been out as a wolf for most of the day, and there was no need for him to smell like mud beside Rachel. A shower was a good choice. He drove his old car over to the Black's house. He didn't want to phase after just showering.

It was early in the morning when Paul appeared at the Black's front door. Five in the morning as promised, Rachel opened the door before Paul could even knock. Her hair looked damp indicating that she must have taken a showed after he left. That brought naughty thoughts to Paul's mind. He focused on the smell of vanilla coming from her hair instead of letting his thoughts run wild. "Did you sleep well?" Paul asked her. He wasn't sure why he asked. He already knew the answer.

"Yeah. You?" _Liar._

"Same here." Another lie, except Paul didn't need as much sleep as a regular human. He could go for a few days without sleep if he really needed to. Most of the time he chose not to use his super-werewolf-need-less-sleep powers and slept a solid ten hours a day.

"Ready?" she asked him. He nodded.

"Do you want to take my car or your car?" asked Paul.

"Mine," she said as she went to throw her bags in the back seat. "You want to drive?"

He was glad she was going to let him drive. "Sure," answered Paul. He easily caught the keys that she tossed to him. He looked down at the heavy set of keys and suppressed a chuckle. On her keyring was a plastic wolf howling at the moon. It was from Great Wolf Lodge. It was fairly worn out, so Paul concluded that she must have gone with her family years ago. Paul wondered whether Jacob had a keyring similar to hers as well. That would be ironic.

Paul opened the driver's door at the same time as Rachel opened the passenger's door. He wished he had gone over to open the door for her but it was too late now. Rachel had already slid into the passenger's seat and had begun to buckle up when she noticed Paul was still outside of the car. He was looking at the seat, as if contemplating it. "What?" asked Rachel.

"This seat is like three inches from the wheel. I'm feeling claustrophobic just looking at it. How in the world do you sit in here?" Paul began adjusting the seat. He set the seat as far back as it would go and lowered it to the bottom.

"Not all of us are freakishly tall. Those of us that are average height fit just fine," she said, lightheartedly. He liked it when she teased him.

Paul was in his seat now. "Oh yeah? So how do you fit, then? You're not average height, Rach," he teased. "You're barely the size of a doll. How do you reach the pedal?"

"You're just jealous that I can fit into small spaces and children's clothing."

Paul had the key in the ignition. "Really now? And just why would I want to fit in children's clothing?" He turned the key and felt the car rumble to life.

"Hey, I save a lot of money. Children's clothing is much cheaper and more durable, too."

He couldn't help but ask her, "Are you wearing children's clothes right now?" She looked down at what she was wearing. Paul's eyes followed suit. She was wearing dark blue jeans which Paul thought fit her legs very well. She was wearing a button up shirt but left it open so that that her blue shirt could peek out underneath. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows. It was a very tomboyish look that suited her well, he decided.

"Maybe," said Rachel, her voice going a little higher. Paul learned that her _maybe_ was a _definitely_ in Rachel language. He didn't care. He rather liked what she was wearing. It was plain and simple but very attractive, in Paul's opinion.

Paul only grinned in response. He searched around the control board for the radio button. He found what he was looking for and music filled the car, only Paul didn't recognize the song. It had an old retro sound to it. He took a closer look at the station. He hadn't heard of that station before either. He flipped through all the stations on her radio. None were recognizable. "Do you listen to any music from this century?" Immediately after he said that he wished he could take it back. He hoped she wouldn't take offense to his question. He realized now all he had done this morning in the past five minutes was razz on her and her car.

"Does 80s-inspired music produced in this century count?"

Paul laughed. "No, it doesn't. Should I even bother to look through your CDs?"

"Erm, no…" she said in an embarrassed tone. Paul thought it was cute how she got embarrassed.

"Did you eat breakfast yet?" asked Paul.

"Uh, yeah," she answered. Paul assumed that was another lie but he didn't argue.

"You mind if I stop by a drive thru to get something?" he asked her.

"Sure," she nodded. Paul planned to make her eat, whether she wanted to or not. She couldn't starve herself. He would be the worst imprinter if he let her.

They pulled up into a McDonald's drive thru. Paul ordered a large coffee for himself and a medium coffee for Rachel, against her protest. He looked at the menu and felt in the mood for an Egg McMuffin, some waffles, and an apple pie. He ordered a fruit salad for Rachel, knowing that she would like fruit.

"You sure this is _just_ breakfast?" asked Rachel.

"Hey, breakfast is the most important meal of the day. Gotta eat a big breakfast," he told her. "Here," he handed her the fruit bowl.

"I'm not hungry," refused Rachel.

"Fine, but you'd better eat it at some point today." Paul was getting really worried about her. Did she have an eating disorder? He remembered that she was eating at the bonfire the other day. Paul wanted to know what was going on with her now. Maybe he would ask her about it very carefully later.

Paul pulled out of the drive thru and back onto the road with one hand on the wheel and one hand holding his breakfast. He got into the far left lane, preparing to make a left hand turn. He flipped the turn signal on and heard the _ticking_ of the signal.

"You can't eat and drive!" exclaimed Rachel. "That's dangerous!"

"What? I do it all the time," he mumbled through his mouthful of muffin. The light turned green and Paul made his one-handed left turn. From the corner of his eye, he could see Rachel holding onto the handle provided on the roof. She looked terrified. He swung into the far right lane this time and headed onto the high way. Paul followed the winding ramp and merged into the light morning traffic. Paul wasn't sure what the big deal was. He'd seen people drive and apply make up at the same time. He'd even seen a man reading a novel on the highway before. Besides, he was a skillful werewolf with excellent spatial and coordination abilities. Even ordinary people could handle driving and eating at the same time.

Rachel gulped audibly. It probably wasn't audible to the regular human, but Paul's sensitive ears picked up on it. Paul suddenly felt terrible, remembering that she had been in a car accident long ago. She, Rebecca and Jake were fine, but her dad ended up in a wheelchair and her mom didn't make it. He couldn't blame her for being extra cautious now. He couldn't imagine what it was like for her to be in such a traumatic experience and what it must have been like to grow up without a mother. Paul put down his breakfast so he could grip the wheel with two hands. He slowed down the car to match the legal speed limit, hoping it would ease her worry. When that didn't completely satisfy her, he slowed down to ten below the limit. He knew that he would get honked during the entire trip, but if it made Rachel feel better then he'd travel at a snail pace for her.

He turned to see that Rachel looked considerably less worried. He wanted to tell Rachel that she never needed to worry when she was with him; that he would take always care of her. He wanted to her to know that he would protect her from everything; that she could trust him with anything. Instead, he remained silent.

Every now and then his eyes would wander to Rachel's body. She was always looking out the window with a thoughtful expression. He wanted to ask her what she was thinking about, but he got the feeling that she didn't want to talk.

Paul was surprised to see Rachel move from her position looking out the window. He was pleasantly hopeful when she picked up his waffle. Maybe she was finally going to eat now. Instead she held the waffle up to his mouth. "Here," she offered. She was feeding him. Though that was not what Paul had anticipated, he gladly accepted and took a bite. Paul was pretty hungry, but then again he was always hungry. He was torn between wolfing down his breakfast to satisfy his hunger, and conserving his food so Rachel could continue to feed him. Against his stomach's request, he decided to take small bites. When there was one bite left of the waffle, he deliberately let his lips graze her fingers. He wanted so badly to let his tongue slide against her fingers but he restrained himself from doing so.

"Hit me again," said Paul.

"Waffle or muffin?"

"Waffle me," he decided. Again, he took small bites and let his lips touch her skin whenever he could. Paul couldn't wait until he was allowed to touch her and kiss her. He couldn't continue to steal casual touches like this for much longer. It was driving him insane. He also wanted her to touch him, too. He'd noticed that she never made an effort to make contact with him. He wanted their relationship to progress past friends… or whatever they were. Paul wasn't even sure if they were friends exactly. He didn't know how she felt about him.

She didn't treat him like Quil or Embry. But she didn't treat him like a boyfriend. He decided he would ask her out. Tomorrow. The PNE, Pacific National Exhibition, was open in Vancouver right now. A fair would be a good first date.

The rest of the car ride was mostly filled with the sound of the radio and occasionally a light conversation. They reached Seattle by ten-thirty. They could have been there sooner but Paul chose to drive slowly for Rachel's sake. Paul was shocked that Rachel hadn't slept at all during the five hour drive. There was no way that she couldn't be exhausted by now. According to Paul's calculations, she hadn't slept in over twenty four hours.

Rachel and Paul spent six hours taping posters and handing out fliers. It was such tiring work that Paul was _almost_ regretting the whole trip. The only thing that kept him going was Rachel and wanting to make her happy. They swung by a diner and got a quick meal. He was relieved to see Rachel eat the fruit bowl from earlier and a small dinner. Although she ate slowly and took small bites, Paul was pleased that she managed to finish her dinner.

By five in the afternoon, they were on the road once again. "Do you want me to drive now?" Rachel asked. "You must be really tired." In truth, Paul was feeling a little tired but he didn't want to make Rachel drive if she didn't have to. "Nah, I'm good. But you should get some sleep in the car," he suggested.

She was hesitant about sleeping in the car. She shuffled around to get comfy and tried several positions. Paul figured she was stalling and didn't want to sleep in the car. She probably felt vulnerable taking a nap and letting her guard down in a car. There would be nothing she could do in an emergency if she was asleep. She wouldn't be able to see it coming if she were asleep. Paul had never been much of a perceptive guy, but he felt like he was starting to understand Rachel Black. It was likely the imprint magic showing him what he needed to see. "I promise nothing is going to go wrong," he assured her. He left his assurance to be vague so she could interpret however she wanted. There was a mutual understanding between them. Although they never directly spoke about it, Rachel seemed to be aware that Paul knew about her anxiety with cars.

He wondered why she even had a car if she didn't like to drive. He wondered how she managed to drive to and from school. It was then that Paul realized how much Jake being gone was affecting her. She had already lost her mother and now her brother was potentially gone. There was nothing she could do to bring her mother back… but there was something she could do to bring Jake back. That must be why she seems so adamant about finding him when he didn't want to be found. Paul wondered if sleeping and eating deprivation was just a product of her anxiety.

Eventually Rachel drifted off to sleep. She looked quite peaceful in her sleep, decided Paul. He was glad that she was able to finally get some sleep. He wondered if her being able to sleep had anything to do with his presence. He liked to think that he was making it easier for her to sleep. Maybe it was the imprint working its magic again. He took the opportunity while she was asleep to watch her. He spent two thirds of the time watching her and the remaining third actually watching the road.

Paul was finally at the border between Canada and America. He joined the shortest line and got the passports ready. There was nothing to do so he flipped through her passport. Her passport said _Rachel Sadie Black_. So that's what her middle name was. He decided he like it very much. It suited her. He wanted to try out her full name in conjunction with his last name. _Rachel Sadie Lahote._ Paul wanted to say it out loud so see how it felt on his tongue but he didn't want to frighten Rachel if she were to hear. He then wondered if Rachel would even want to take his last name. Maybe she'd want to hyphenate. Would she want _Lahote-Black_ or _Black-_ Lahote? He'd probably be disappointed if she refused to take his family name or to hyphenate, but he'd understand.

Her picture was taken three years ago. She looked the same now as she did in her photo. Same pretty eyes and soft smile. The only difference was that she had short hair three years ago. It stopped just above her shoulders. Paul concluded that she must look good in all hairstyles.

Paul flipped through the back pages to find her passport stamps. She'd only crosses the Canadian-American boarder a handful of times. The same was for Paul. Neither of them had been far from Washington before. Maybe one day they'd travel together and see the world. They'd go somewhere beautiful and interesting. He wondered if she would like to see Greece or England. He certainly wouldn't mind going to those places.

Paul was apologetic when he had to wake Rachel up at the customs booth. For a moment she was confused and dazed about her surroundings. She regained her composure quickly, though. The customs officer waved them through very quickly. After passing through the border they stopped at the first motel. All the letters in the sign had working light bulbs. That was a good sign. The door had we welcome sign on it, and it was fairly clean looking. Another good sign. Paul was glad that Rachel didn't seem too disgusted.

They got a room with two single beds. He secretly hoped that they only offered double beds so they'd have to share, but he knew that was a longshot. Rachel pulled out her credit card and slid it forward on the table. He couldn't let her pay for the motel, especially when it was kind of his fault that they were here. If he had told her the truth about Jake then they wouldn't be here. "I've got it, Rach," Paul said, taking out his card. The woman at the counter looked between the two of them, uncertain whose card to charge.

"Paul, really. I should pay. I've dragged you all the way here. It's the least I can do." Rachel turned to the woman quickly. "Here." She slid her card forward some more. Rachel took Paul's card and slipped Paul's card into the pocket of his jeans. Rachel's hand so close to him, putting his card in his pocket caught him off guard. If only she would move her hand a little more to the right. Maybe if Paul could just shift his body a little more, then her hand would brush against him. Paul stood frozen in his position while her hand hastily retreated.

The woman gave Paul and apologetic look and took Rachel's card. They collected their room key and headed around back to find their disgusting room. It wasn't as dirty as Paul expected, but it wasn't clean either.

He offered her the shower first, which she accepted. She came out shortly after in a change of clothes. She was wearing a baggy shirt and a pair of shorts with her hair tired up in a bun on her head. He didn't realize that he was staring at her until she broke his trance. "Are you going to go now?" she asked him. _Right. Shower._ That's what he was planning to do before he got so distracted by her.

He stripped off his clothes and set them aside. Paul noticed the shower dial was left turned all the way to the left for hot water. Paul normally liked to take cool showers, but he was curious to see how warm Rachel liked her showers. The water flowed out of the shower head at a scalding hot temperature. Paul wondered how it was possible for her not to burn herself with water this warm. Paul was excited by this discovery. If Rachel liked to be warm, then she wouldn't mind being enveloped in his arms. She would enjoy Paul's comforting heat just as much as he would enjoy her body against his.

Paul came out of the washroom in just his boxers, ready for bed. He was keenly aware of Rachel's eyes on his as he walked over to his bed. She looked away embarrassedly when he caught her eyes with his own. Paul turned off the light by his bed as Rachel did the same to hers.

"Night, Paul."

"Goodnight, Rachel," Paul returned. He wanted to add a wish of sweet dreams but he decided against it. He was hoping that they might be able to talk before bed. He was hoping for a heart to heart conversation. He wanted her to open up to him and to tell him what was wrong. He wanted to ask her a question. "Rachel, can I ask you something?" Paul could tell that Rachel was still awake by the inhale and exhale of her breathing.

He waited for her answer. She didn't say anything. "Rachel?" he tried again. Still no response. She was pretending to be asleep, only she didn't know that Paul was aware that she was awake. So she was ignoring him. She didn't want to talk to him. Paul was disappointed and heartbroken. She didn't like him. She didn't want him. He wasn't good enough for her. He gave up and gave in to the sleep that was threatening to take him over.

Paul soon woke up to the faint chatter in the room. He was barely awake when he realized it was Rachel's voice. Was she talking on the phone? And to who was she talking to, because she certainly didn't want to talk to him, as she made it perfectly clear earlier. Paul shifted over to his side so he could face her. She was still lying down under the covers. Her breathing and heart rate was much slower than before. He concluded that she was asleep and must have been sleep talking. He was going to go bacd to sleep when his curiosity got the better of him.

He quietly hopped out of his bed, fully awake now. He knelt down beside her bed so that he was almost level with her body. He noticed how she was curled up under the blankets. Her arms were pulled closely to her body with her hands tucked under her head. She reminded Paul of a tiny sleeping rabbit. He pulled the covers up past her shoulders to keep her warm. He waited for her to say more. Minutes passed before she mumbled his name once.

Paul was ecstatic! She was dreaming about him! He hoped she was having a good dream. He suddenly wanted to know what she was dreaming about. In a very soft voice, he decided to prompt her. "What is Paul doing?" He didn't get a response. "Do you like Paul?"

"Paul," she mumbled in response.

"What do you think of Paul?" he asked her. He felt weird talking about himself in third person.

"Hot," she said. Paul's heart was racing. She thought he was hot. "Too hot," she muttered. Paul was confused. He wasn't sure there was such a thing as being too hot. He'd never heard of being _too hot_ as an issue before. She started thrashing around under the blankets. He misunderstood. She was too hot.

Once she settled down again he decided to press for more. "What were you saying about Paul?"

"He's very nice," she said. She was finally speaking in full sentences. At first Paul thought she was awake, but her pulse and respiration rate told him that she was still asleep.

"Do you like Paul?"

There was no response for a long time. He repeated the question. "I wish…" The rest of her sentence was far too slurred for even his sensitive ears to tease apart.

It was like a cliff hanger. He had to know what she had said. Paul asked her, "You wish for what, Rach?" He only wanted to know what she wanted so he could give it to her.

"Mom…" she murmured. "Jake…Paul…" Paul was glad that his name was in the list. "Dylan…" Paul wanted to know just who the hell this Dylan character was to her.

"Who's Dylan?"

"My friend." Paul wondered if they were just friends. He voiced his question. "No," she answered. _No?_ She said they were friends, but then she said that they weren't just friends. Paul didn't have a clue what that meant.

Paul decided to try a different question. "How do you feel about Paul?

Rachel replied, "I don't know."

"Are you attracted to him?"

Paul couldn't make out the beginning of her sentence, but he didn't need it to figure out what she meant. "… brother's friend. It's not right. He's a child." It sounded like Rachel _did_ like him! He was very happy now. He had a chance. He just needed to win her over. He needed to convince her of his worthiness.

"You should give Paul a chance. He really cares about you and he'll make you so happy. Okay?" Rachel mumbled an unintelligible response. Paul knew he should stop there and not push his luck but he had another question he wanted answered. He was sure he wasn't going to get an answer out of her while she was awake.

"Why aren't you sleeping or eating much?"

"Jake's missing," was her answer. Paul was getting frustrated. It was so difficult to have a conversation with a sleep talker. They never really listened or understood what you were asking them and you had a fifty-fifty chance that they'd even respond. Then Paul realized that Jake being missing could actually be her answer. "So you're too anxious?"

"Yes," she confirmed. Paul wanted to murder Jake for causing his imprint so much pain and worry. She'd literally worried herself sick over her idiot brother. Then he realized murdering Jake would probably only make things worse for Rachel.

"What can Paul do to make it better?"

"Paul makes it better," she mumbled. He couldn't believe his ears. Maybe she did feel the imprint after all. She probably didn't understand any of what she was feeling though. He wanted to tell her about the supernatural world so she could understand everything and maybe that would speed up their relationship.

"How does Paul make it better?" He was trying to get some details so he could boost his ego a bit. He knew it was a longshot to get an answer, but he figured he didn't have much to lose. He assumed wrongly, though. He heard her heart rate pick up and knew she was surfacing out of a sleep state. He flew back to his side of the room and under the covers. Moments later, Paul heard the rustle of blankets and imagined that she was probably sitting up on her elbows, peering over at his "sleeping" form. He heard her settle back down into the bed, and he drifted back asleep with newfound confidence. Tomorrow he would ask her out.

Author's note

Hope you're enjoying the story so far, it's going to get a lot more interesting in the coming chapters, so STAY TUNED. Also, don't forget to REVIEW! Review and let me know what you want to see more of or less of! I got one review last time, which really appreciate, but I need more feedback! Favourite it, alert it click on the story again… anything that tells me whether you like it or not.


	3. Misprint

If you're not comfortable reading slightly more mature content, skip the italics section below!

" _Rachel," Paul dragged out her name as he felt her hands run down the plane of his bare chest. Her touch sent his head spinning faster than an anemometer during a tornado. She kissed his jaw and trailed her lips down to his neck and stopped at the junction between his shoulder and neck. Rachel gave his skin a gentle bite which caused Paul to inhale sharply. Although Paul's body was made to withstand vampire claws and teeth, a simple touch by Rachel was enough to break him into a million pieces._

 _Unable to resist anymore, Paul rolled them over and pressed his body onto hers. He made sure not to place his entire 200 pound frame on her petite figure. His hands slipped just under her shirt to feel the soft skin of her waist. He moved his thumbs in small circles. He brought his lips to meet hers in a searing hot kiss. Paul dragged his tongue against her lower lip. She tasted like maple syrup and honey. It was intoxicating. Rachel parted her lips and Paul's tongue gladly entered._

 _Soon Rachel pulled back. Paul was worried that she was regretting everything that had happened between them. He was worried that she'd tell him that she didn't want to be with him. "I love you, Paul," was not what he was expecting to come out of her pretty mouth. He was surprised to hear those words so soon from her and surprised to hear her sound so confident._

 _Without a hesitation, Paul replied, "Rachel, baby, I love you more than anything." Paul lightly kissed the upturned corned of Rachel's smiling lips. He placed butterfly kisses along the contour of her jaw and down the curve of her neck. He found her pulse point and ran his tongue over it. He could feel the lub dub of her racing pulse. Rachel was squirming beneath Paul, only making him continue his ministrations with more enthusiasm. He liked how she writhed with pleasure at the sensation of his lips tickling her sensitive neck. She was laughing and was completely out of breath now. He briefly wondered where else she was ticklish._

 _Rachel's bare legs wrapped around Paul's midsection. One hand left her waist to place feathery caresses against her thigh. "Please, Paul," she panted into his ear, letting her lips brush against the space under his ear. Her hot breath against his skin made him shiver. Please was the magic word. He would never make her ask twice for anything. He would always give her what she wanted. He would always provide her with what she needed. And right now he knew what she needed; what they both needed._

It was far too good to be true. Paul woke up with disappointment flooding his thoughts as he found himself lying on his twin sized mattress alone, while Rachel was ten feet away on her own mattress. It had been nothing more than a delightful dream. He was disappointed that it had only been a dream, and even more disappointed that he didn't get to see how the rest of it played out. He felt a surge of hope as he figured that if a dream-Rachel could make him feel like that, then the real-Rachel would make him feel so good that he wouldn't be able to think straight for days.

Paul was startled out of his thoughts when Rachel laughed in her sleep. It was the same sexy laugh he heard in his dream. Paul wondered if it were possible that she was having the same dream as he had. He wondered if it was some weird imprint-imprinter joint dream phenomenon. That brought on a whole set of questions. Was it her dream that he was sharing, or was it his dream that she was sharing? That could make a huge difference. If it was Rachel's dream that he was sharing then it would mean she liked him a whole lore more than she was letting on. Maybe it was an equally shared dream in which both participants contributed to the dream, indicating that their feelings were mutual. _Or maybe,_ thought Paul, _I'm just going crazy. She's probably not dreaming about the same thing._

What happened next told Paul that he wasn't crazy and neither was his hypothesis of the imprint-imprinter joint dream phenomenon. Rachel's mouth was muffled by the blankets so Paul couldn't make out what she said. It definitely started with a _p._ It was either _please_ or _Paul_ and quite frankly, Paul didn't care which she had said. Either was music to his ears.

He made his way over to her side of the room. He knelt down so could hear well. She looked so pretty and angelic. He wanted to brush her hair away from her face. Paul had to bite the inside of his mouth to refrain from pressing his lips to her forehead. Luckily he found something else to occupy himself with. Rachel's phone sat on the nightstand beside the bed. A red light was flashing from the upper right corner of the display screen. Paul wanted to take a quick peek. It could be important after all, and it might even a life or death situation on the other end of the phone. Paul drummed his fingers along the edge of the nightstand as he contemplated what he should do.

He decided to go for it. Before picking it up, he made a careful note of the exact placement of her phone so he could put it back to the way it was without her knowing. He picked it up and pressed the sleep-wake button on the edge of her phone. The screen lit up to life and showed a background picture of herself with who he assumed was Rebecca. The bottom of the display indicated that she had six unread messages. He wouldn't be able to open the messages without her knowing. If he did, then the notification would disappear and she'd know someone had opened them without her permission. And since it was just the two of them, she'd rightly assume it was him.

Maybe he could go to her inbox to get a preview of the messages. He could read the first bit of the message without having to actually open the thread. He pressed the middle button, which would take him to her inbox. Paul inwardly cursed. A password was needed to proceed. He took a guess: 1234. Her phone buzzed and told him that he was wrong. Of course she'd never pick something as simple as 1234. He tried another combination. No dice. After the fifth time he was really out of luck. Her phone had locked him out and wouldn't reset for ten minutes. Paul gulped and set her phone back on the nightstand.

He prayed to the imprint gods that she wouldn't wake up in the next ten minutes. It was still early in the morning so there was a good chance she'd stay asleep for a little while longer. He bounded back to his side of the room to sit on his bed and count down from T minus 10 minutes. He measured the time with Rachel's breathing. The rise and fall of her form indicated that another three and a half seconds pased. Time was passing by agonizingly slowly. Only three more minutes until he was home free. At two and a half minutes to go, Rachel began to stir. Paul hoped that maybe she was just tossing and turning and would stay asleep but he could never be that lucky.

Paul wasn't sure what he should do. He certainly couldn't be staring at her as she woke up. Should he throw himself down under the covers and pretend to be asleep? Or should he jump into the shower and pretend to have been there for the past while? It was too late too late to decide now. She had opened her eyes to see Paul sitting on his bed looking at her.

She looked frightened at first, then her expression softened as she yawned. He decided to play it cool. If he pretended that nothing was wrong, then maybe she wouldn't think anything was strange. "Morning, Rach. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah." Paul was glad that she was able to get a good night of sleep. "How about you?"

"Same here," he smiled. He had a really good sleep. It could only have been better if she was closer to him.

Rachel sat up and wrapped the blankets around herself in a little cocoon. "Uh, Paul, were you… watching me sleep?"

"Yeah," said Paul. Sometimes he really hated that imprinters had a natural reflex to always be truthful to their imprints. "Only because you were talking in your sleep," amended Paul. He felt like that made it much less creepy.

Her cheeks flushed red faster than he had ever seen, like it was controlled by a light switch. "What did I say?"

"Oh, nothing much," he said teasingly. He just needed to stall for another two minutes.

"Seriously, Paul. What did I say?" she asked, deadly serious.

Paul couldn't help but have a little fun with the situation. "What, you got something to hide?" he countered asked.

"No," she said defensively. Her expression changed from embarrassment to confidence.

"Then tell me what you were dreaming about. I'll even tell you what I was dreaming about first if you want," he offered. Paul wasn't sure what he was expecting her to say. Maybe he expected her to take him up on the offer. Then he'd proudly tell her what he dreamt, maybe sparing a few details here and there. Then hopefully she'd profess her feelings for him and disclose what she was dreaming about. Then if all the stars were aligned, they'd pick up with his dream left off. If only, though.

"No thanks. I don't care to know what goes on in that mind of yours." Rachel had never been angry with Paul before. It made Paul's chest seize up. He was just teasing her. He didn't mean to upset her so much. If he told her the truth, that she might have said his name, she might get embarrassed and more upset. If he remained silent she'd still be embarrassed and upset.

"Wait, Rachel," he called. She wasn't listening to him. He sprung up off the bed and landed behind her. He took her hand in his and tugged lightly to prevent her from leaving. She still didn't face him. She was ignoring him and it made his stomach drop.

He decided to make a bold move and hugged her body close to his. He could feel her try to resist his embrace before she gave up. "I'm sorry Rachel." He pulled back to look at her. Her arms were pressed between his body and hers. Her hands were balled up in fists. He'd messed up majorly. "I was just teasing you. You laughed in your sleep. That's it. That's all I heard," he white-lied.

Rachel relaxed considerably, confirming his theory that she was hiding something. Hopefully she really was hiding a dream fantasy of him. Paul's heart was thumping against his ribcage. He had Rachel locked in his arms and it felt so right. He wanted to stay like this forever. Unfortunately Rachel had other ideas. "Can you let me go now?" She unballed her fists and had them pressed against his chest in attempt to break free.

"Okay," he agreed. "But I really am sorry." Her eyes wouldn't meet his. He ducked his head down in attempt to catch her eyes. This was the only time he could ever recall wishing that he was shorter. If he was shorter then Rachel wouldn't be able to avoid his gaze so easily. "Rachel-"

"Okay, I get it. It's fine." She made another attempt to pull away. No, it wasn't fine. It was never okay to make Rachel upset. Without a warning, he scooped her up off the ground. She squeaked out a shriek.

He could feel her heart beating really quickly. He wondered if she was really nervous or if she was just extremely angry. "Rachel." This time she met his eyes. Her breath was caught in her throat. He would have taken the opportunity to smirk at the effect he had on her, but he was just as captivated by her eyes as she was by his. Finally he was able to recollect his thoughts. "I want to make it up to you. I want to take you to the P.N.E. fair today."

"There's nothing to make up for," she told him, nervously.

"There is, Rachel. I-"

"Look, I practically grew up with three younger brothers." Paul gathered that she meant Jake, Quil, and Embry. He hated that Embry and Quil knew Rachel much better than he did. He hated that they had history with her while he just met her a few days ago. "I know what you guys are like. And I'm a big girl. It takes a lot more than that to hurt my feelings."

Paul felt like he was choking when Rachel said _I know what you guys are like_ , lumping him in with the other guys. The guys she thought of as little immature brothers. He had been worse than friend-zoned. He had been family-zoned. He took a moment to gather his confidence back up. She didn't mean what she said. There was no way that she didn't feel the imprint in a romantic way. That would just be a cruel joke.

"Please Rachel?"

"You really want to go?" Paul nodded. Rachel bit her lip in thought. "Okay," she conceded. Paul let out a breath he didn't know he was holding and beamed at her. He was so glad that she said yes. It wasn't exactly the way he planned to ask her out,but it was still a yes nevertheless. He thought about kissing her right then and there, but he held off his impulsivity because he wanted their first kiss to be special. He was never good at controlling his impulses so he settled on kissing her cheek instead. It was a short two-second peck, but still better than any kiss he'd ever given before.

Rachel was stunned but didn't further acknowledge his actions. "Okay, you can put me down any time now." Paul made no movement to set her down. Instead he held her closer and smirked. "Uh, Paul?" she said impatiently.

"You said 'any time,' and I don't want to put you down yet. I like having you right here." Rachel swallowed audibly before telling him, "I need to get ready. So I'll need to stand on my own, please." Paul reluctantly set her down.

"Okay, but only because you said please." He gave her a wink while she scrambled off to the privacy of the washroom. She emerged a few minutes later pulling a brush through her hair. She sat down on the edge of her bed and started to braid her hair. As inconspicuously as he could, Paul watched her from the corner of his eye. He held his phone in his hands and pressed random buttons to make it seem like he was preoccupied.

Paul knew how to braid hair. It was something all the kids on the res learned how to do. As children they all wore their long hair in braids. It was normal for them. When the phasing started, their long hair transferred into a long shaggy coat of fur that was only a hindrance when trying to tear apart vampires. Besides, he looked more like an oversized sheepdog than a dangerous canine with his long hair. So, like all the other boys in the pack, he had his hair cut much to his parents' dismay. They were disappointed in him. They thought he was losing touch with their culture. Little did they know, he was far more in touch with the culture, ancient legends and rituals than they thought.

Although everything Rachel did fascinated Paul, he was exceptionally fascinated because he'd never seen a braid like Rachel's before. Instead of separating her hair into three strands, she only had two. Paul had never heard of a two stranded braid before. Paul wanted a better look so he shifted his body until he was sitting at a right angle to her body. He rested his back against the wall, pretending that he moved just to get more comfortable. Now he had a much clearer view of her.

Paul could make out what she was doing now. He found himself watching her in a trance. Criss cross, criss cross, went her hands. As repetitive as it was, he never lost interest. She repeated it until she got to the bottom of her hair and tied it off with an elastic. Her hair looked like a pretty chevron pattern. It looked very intricate and delicate. He decided that it suited her well.

Rachel stood up, threw her stuff into her backpack, laced up she shoes and announced, "All right, let's get going." Paul was in awe. It took her all of eight minutes to get ready and she still looked more beautiful than any woman he'd ever seen. He wanted to comment on her beauty but he didn't want to make her uncomfortable. She didn't seem to reciprocate or respond particularly well to his flirtatious advances. He wondered if she didn't like it or if she was just nervous. He would find out soon.

Paul and Rachel spent the morning putting up posters. Paul was tired of putting up pointless posters. Jake wasn't here, and he certainly wouldn't come home because of a few posters. Paul figured he'd lessen the load and get rid of a handful of posters. That certainly made the job faster. He just wanted to get to the fair!

They arrived at the fair to find that it was already busy and bustling with crowds. Paul's insistent hunger led them towards the food area. There were so many options to choose from, but the deep-fry truck really called out to him.

"One deep fried Mars Bar, a deep fried vanilla sundae, a deep fried donut, a deep fried Oreo cake, and a fruit smoothie." The smoothie, of course, was for Rachel. Paul knew that Rachel liked fruit and if she wasn't feeling like eating, then she could drink her meals. He knew her lack of appetite was due to her brother's disappearance having worked up her nerves. In theory she was showing a valid reaction. He put himself into her shoes and imagined if someone he loved randomly disappeared for a long period of time, he would be worried sick, too. He wished he could tell Rachel about the wolf secret so that she'd know her brother was fine. Maybe then she'd stop torturing herself with food and sleep deprivation.

"Is that why you wanted to come here? To eat food that would clog your arteries?" she joked.

"This is like a delicacy. You can't get this stuff anywhere else." Rachel only shook her head at him. When his order was complete, they headed over to a picnic table. It was crowded so they had to sit on the same side of the table. That presented Paul with advantages and disadvantages. It was disadvantageous because it was an awkward angle and he wouldn't be able to gaze across the table into her eyes. But it was advantageous because there was so little room that she would be forced to sit in close proximity to him. His arm brushed against hers several times. Yeah, the advantages definitely outweighed the disadvantages.

Paul handed her the smoothie. "I can't-" she began. "Please Rachel. You're going to collapse from exhaustion and lack of food." Paul didn't like having to be so serious with her. "And if you collapse, then I'll just have to carry you everywhere, I guess. That's fine by me," he said, adding a half grin. He wouldn't mind having her in his arms again. Rachel rolled her eyes and signed in defeat. She took a small sip probably just to please Paul.

Rachel tried to control her disgust for Paul's diet. "It's really good," mumbled Paul, through a mouthful of deep fried Oreo. "You should really try it."

Rachel shook her head. "I don't think I can justify filling my arteries with fat."

"Well I can justify it for you: It's freaking good! Come on, you have to try it. Just one bite isn't going to clog your arteries."

She still didn't look convinced. "Aren't you worried for your health at all?" she asked him.

"Nah. Life is too short to worry about that stuff." Paul took another bite.

"Oh my…" said Rachel, with her hand on her forehead disapprovingly. "Okay, if you aren't worried about your health, surely you have to be worried about destroying your form," she said as her eyes travelled down his shoulders and chest. "I mean, you must have worked pretty hard to develop that build." Finally she had acknowledged his body! Paul was ecstatic.

He shook his head nonchalantly. "Nah. Not worried about that either. This body can handle _anything_ ," he said with a hint of an innuendo.

"Really?" she said in disbelief.

"Yup. This bod," Paul's hand waved up and down his body, "this god-like form burns off everything like fire on flash paper."

"Are you and the other boys on some sort of steroids or something?"

"Steroids? No, people on steroids wished they could look like this," he said pointing his two thumbs towards himself.

"How is it that suddenly all the boys, even the ones that were tiny little twigs when I left, have become massive? And it's only your circle of friends… The rest of La Push seems to be normal."

"We all kind of workout together and do… extraneous activities…" said Paul evasively.

"And this so called 'workout' that you do, why don't you make a DVD and sell it. Clearly you and the boys are seeing results. You could make a fortune off it." She wasn't buying Paul's explanation.

"Uh, the workout regimen is more of a secret. Wouldn't want everyone walking around looking like this, now would we? If everyone was buff then nobody would be buff, right?" Paul was deflecting her serious questions with some humor. He wasn't sure if that was helping or hurting the case he was making.

"Uh huh. And my brother?"

Paul nodded. "Bigger than Sam," he told her earnestly. Rachel nearly choked.

" _My_ brother? We're talking about the same Jacob Black, right?"

"Yeah," confirmed Paul.

"Oh, good god. I can't believe I've been away from home for that long. I'm going to smack him if I find out that he's been on steroids." She still didn't believe that they weren't on steroids.

"You don't want to do that. You'll probably break your hand," warned Paul. He thought back to the time Bella broke her hand punching Jake's face. That was a funny day for Paul.

"You know, steroids are really bad for your health. They can cause high blood pressure, heart disease, blood clots, stroke, painful erections, shrinking of testicles, and decrease in sperm count which can lead to infertility!"

Paul was going to explode with excitement. She was concerned for his health! She was particularly concerned for his reproductive health. Maybe she wanted to have kids with him! Paul knew that was a bit of a stretch to make but it still made him oddly happy. He put one of his hands atop of hers. "I promise you Rachel, we are not taking steroids. You have my word."

"All right, then. I believe you," she said, although Paul wasn't sure if she truly believed him. Rachel offered an effortful smile.

Paul decided to change the subject. "So, deep fried Oreo cake. You should try it."

"Yeah, no." Rachel shook her head.

"I'll stop pestering you if you try it."

"All right, fine," she conceded. She held her hand out for the fork but Paul pretended not to see it. He stabbed a bit of the Oreo onto his fork and brought it to her lips. She took it into her mouth and chewed it slowly. Once she swallowed he asked, "Well?"

"I think I can feel the diameter of my arteries shrinking already."

Paul sighed in defeat. "Okay, I'll gladly continue to clog my arteries with happiness." The next bite Paul took tasted even better than the last. It probably had something to do with the fact that Rachel's lips had been on the fork just moments ago.

Rachel drank half of her smoothie, which Paul was not happy about. He wished Rachel would realize that her brother wasn't worth worrying herself over. He did admire that about her though; that she cared about her brother so much that she went to all this trouble to find him. He drank the remaining of her smoothing, claiming to dislike wasting food. In reality he just wanted his lips to touch where hers had been.

Paul tossed out the leftover trash from his meal. Along the way he spotted a caricature booth. He thought it would make a great first date memento. One day they would look back on it and reminisce about their first date. "Want to get a caricature done?" Paul asked her.

"Sure," she smiled.

Paul handed the artist a ten dollar bill. "You've got a very pretty girlfriend," the man said to Paul. Rachel began to object, but Paul's louder voice drowned out Rachel's quieter one. He agreed with the man saying, "I know she's very beautiful." Technically Paul didn't agree that she was his girlfriend, he just didn't disagree. The man motioned for them to sit down on the wooden stools. The artist looked at the two, squinted one eye shut and cocked his head as if surveying them. He walked forward to them and put Paul's arm over Rachel's shoulders.

"Lean closer together," he ordered. Paul had no objections with that. He pulled her closer and Rachel leaned in to his side. He thought he was imagining things when she gently leaned her head on his shoulder. "Much better," said the artist. Ten minutes later they had a colourful drawing of themselves as bobble heads. Paul didn't think the artist captured all of Rachel's beauty but Rachel seemed to like the piece so he was happy.

Paul asked her if she wanted to go on any rides. She said only if he wanted to. Of course he wanted to. He asked her if she had a preference, which she said no to. He wasn't sure what kind of rides he wanted to go on. He thought about the slow rides like the Ferris wheel. That would certainly make for a romantic ride and provide an excellent stage for a first kiss. He wondered about the spinny rides like the Polar Express. With that much centrifugal force, she'd be pressed against his side with no control. He considered the thrilling rides like a rollercoaster. With any luck, she might get so scared that she'd let him hold her hand.

There were so many options which each presented their own opportunities. Paul decided he wanted to go on one of each type of ride so he'd get to kiss her, have her close, and hold her hand. Unfortunately it didn't turn out as how he thought it would. Rachel liked thrilling rides, almost as much as he did. At the top of the peak she threw her arms in the air as they plumeted down the tracks to the ground. She screamed all the way down, but was laughing by the time they arrived at the end of the track. Although he didn't get the opportunity to hold her hand during the ride, Paul wasn't going to give up yet.

Paul hopped out of the cart and held his hand out to help her. He hoped that she would take his hand and not take it as an insult to her independence. To his happiness she put her hand in his without a hesitation. Even after she was safely out of the cart, he continued to hold her hand lightly. He was afraid that if he put too much pressure on her hand she would notice and let go. He thought this was a smooth way to start holding her hand, except by the time they exited the ride grounds, she must have realized he was still holding her hand and pulled it back to herself. It was nice while it lasted, though.

Paul and Rachel headed over to the Ferris wheel next. The ride attendant unlatched the door and Paul motioned for her to go ahead of him. It was a win-win situation. He would seem very gentlemanly, _and_ he would get to follow her in, which meant that he could choose to sit down beside her. If he were to go in first then she would have the chance to sit away from him.

Obviously he sat down beside Rachel, closer than strangers would sit, but not close enough to touch. The wheel turned, brining Rachel and Paul's cart off the ground and up to the peak of the circle. Paul turned to Rachel and nearly said something about the view when he noticed how scared she looked. She was looking over the edge of the cart down at the fair. She was pale and shaking.

"Are you okay Rachel?" he asked her.

Rachel turned around back to the inside of the cart. "Yeah," she nodded. Paul thought it was odd but was going to let it go until the ride halted, causing their cart to tip lightly back and forth, and Rachel let out a muffled squeak. Out of pure instinct she grabbed his hand and tightly squeezed as her breath came out in shallow exhalations. She retracted her hand. "Sorry," she apologized, not meeting his eyes.

Paul reach out and took her hand. "Don't be," he told her. "Rachel, are you afraid of the Ferris wheel?" Rachel shook her head unconvincingly. Paul shifted his weight around to gently rock the cart experimentally. She let out a quiet _eep_ and drew herself closer to Paul so they were touching now. Paul couldn't believe that she was fearless when it came to rollercoasters and free fall drops, but the Ferris wheel scared her! Paul raised an eyebrow at her. "What were you saying again?"

Rachel slid away from Paul and sat up straight. She composed her face as best as she could but she wasn't fooling Paul. He grinned at her feeble, but cute, attempt to look brave. He made his way over to Rachel's side so he could put his arms around her for security, but his weight shifted the cart again. "Sorry," he apologized when she inhaled sharply. She must have been really terrified because she didn't try to pull away.

"I just don't like heights," she said.

"But the rollercoaster was just as high as this," he reasoned. "It was probably even higher."

"Yeah, but this is, like, different." Paul wanted to laugh. She wasn't very articulate when she was scared.

"You got that right. This is calm and peaceful. The other one was fast and dangerous." Rachel had nothing to say in response. She was probably too afraid to make a smart remark. Paul felt bad for picking a ride that scared her so much, but he was very pleased that he got to hold her.

That only ride that played out as he expected was the Polar Express. See was pressed against his side for a solid two minutes and he enjoyed every second of it. The enjoyment stopped when the ride stopped and he suddenly felt the deep fried food making a shallow exit. Paul stumbled over to the nearest trash can and emptied the contents of his stomach. Rachel rubbed his back soothingly. He immediately felt much better with her hand on his back but he didn't want her to stop so he stood over the trash for a few more minutes just savouring her touch.

"Aw, you poor little baby. Looks like that body _can't_ handle anything." Paul was speechless. He wanted to say something flirtatious back to her, but he couldn't think clearly. He always hoped that she would flirt with him, but now that it was a reality he was completely caught off guard. Paul was angry with himself for throwing away a perfectly good moment to flirt. He was also a little disappointed in himself because he wouldn't be able to kiss her tonight, not after vomiting like that.

Rachel decided to cut him off rides for the rest of the night. He argued that he felt fine if she wanted to go on some more rides. Paul and Rachel ended up walking around until they reached the midway section. It wasn't nearly dark enough for all the bright and ostentatious lights to be turned on yet. Paul wished it were though. It would definitely add to the whole summer-date-night mood. He figured they would probably have to leave soon so they could get back to La Push before the night was over. Maybe if they spent enough time at the fair, they'd have to stop for the night and Paul would get another night with Rachel.

"I'll win you any prize you want, Rachel. Any game."

"You sound mighty confident. Are you sure any game?" she asked him.

Paul pondered that for a moment. "Well, maybe any game besides bingo." Paul grinned at her. He had never been to a fair like this, or played midway games before, but he was pretty confident that his superhuman werewolf abilities would give him a helpful advantage.

"Alright, then," said Rachel, making it her challenge to find a game that he couldn't win. She look around at the options. There were so many games to choose from. "Shooting stars then. Let's see you beat this game." Rachel handed a few dollar bills to the game tender.

"You just watch and get ready to pick out a prize," he told her with confidence. Rachel folded her arm over her chest and nodded with scepticism. Paul cracked his knuckles just for show. He took his position behind the gun as the game tender went over the rules. In front of each participant was a sheet of cardstock with a coloured star in the centre. The cardstock was hung up on a clothesline by a clothes peg. Each participant had one hundred pellets in their gun and were to shoot at the target with the goal of cutting out the star from the sheet.

With extraordinary vision, aim, and accuracy, this was no challenge for Paul. Paul made every shot count and ended up cutting out the star with ten bullets remaining. He turned to Rachel to see her watching with astonishment as the star fell out of the paper and floated to the ground. Her mouth hung open.

Paul was faintly aware of the game tender announcing his victory in the background but he was far too concentrated on Rachel. Paul tugged her forward to the booth so she could tell her game tender which prize she wanted. "Your boyfriend set a new record!" Rachel was either in too much shock to correct the man, or she liked being mistaken for Paul's girlfriend. He hoped she liked being called his girlfriend. "I've never seen it been done like this before." The man handed Rachel the star from the paper. He pointed out how clean and perfect his shots were. "So what'll it be?"

Rachel blinked at the man. She still couldn't believe what she saw. Paul chuckled at her cuteness. "We'll take that one," Paul said, when Rachel wouldn't answer. The man pulled down the large grey wolf and handed it to Paul.

"I'd let you hold your wolf, but I'm afraid it might crush you. I think it's a little bigger than you," he teased.

"Ha ha," she said dryly. Finally she was producing words. He was afraid he had caused her to go into permanent shock! "How did you – I mean that was, like… you didn't rig it somehow, did you?"

He laughed. "No. You picked the game, there's no way I could have anticipated which game you would have picked. I'm just a good shot. But I can see where your doubts would come from. I mean, how could one human be so devilishly handsome, muscular, and talented?" He went on to answer his own question. "I'm just an extraordinary exception to the laws mere mortals are subject to."

Rachel laughed. Paul was glad to hear her finally laugh at one of his attempts to be funny or flirt! He felt like it was a breakthrough; like things were finally progressing between them. She was finally accepting their relationship.

"I don't know," she teased, "I think you may have gotten lucky that time. Let's see how you do with the block tower." Paul followed Rachel over to another booth. Rachel dug through her pockets and handed the woman a five dollar bill. He didn't feel right, letting Rachel pay for things. Paul knew that a lot of women found it offensive if their date wouldn't let them pay for stuff occasionally. He wondered if Rachel was like that. He wouldn't want to make her angry, but he wanted to pay for everything. He wondered if that was a wolf-imprint thing. He never felt the compulsive need to pay for his past dates' things. Paul just wanted to give Rachel everything she wanted.

Paul didn't have much time to contemplate these critical thoughts. The lady set up his station with three blocks stacked atop of each other. She placed three softballs on the ledge. He had three chances to knock all three over with one hit. Rachel picked up a softball and shoved it into Paul's hand while taking the wolf out of his arms.

Paul stepped up to the counted and tossed the ball, missing the clock tower by centimeters. He peeked behind him to see Rachel smiling smugly. He took another ball and threw it, this time hitting the middle block. It sent the top two blocks flying off the table. "Ohh, good try!" the woman said. He wasn't paying very much attention to the woman. She reset the tower for him.

Paul picked up the last ball. He turned around and said, "I'm only kidding you, Rach." He tossed the ball over his shoulder without taking his eyes off her. He heard the ball make contact with the blocks, sending them all crashing to the floor. He was pleased to see Rachel's astonished reaction once again. Everyone at the booth was cheering for Paul, but all he was focused on was Rachel.

Rachel insisted on getting another wolf; one to keep the grey one company. Paul was secretly pleased with her choice. Rachel watched him win a few more games, but eventually they called it quits when the prizes wouldn't fit in the car. It was only five in the afternoon when they left the P.N.E. grounds. Paul wished they could stay longer but they had to get home. It was going to be a long drive, but Paul didn't mind because Rachel was with him and things finally seemed to be going in the right direction. It was like she was finally warming up to him.

They talked about typical first date things; hobbies, interests, and pastimes. Paul learned that she loved to read, but even more, she loved to write. "Maybe you could let me read your work sometime," he said. "Maybe," she responded. He hoped she didn't write poetry. He was never a fan of poetry and he wasn't sure how good his acting skills would be.

Rachel told Paul that she played a few sports recreationally. Softball in the summer, cross country in the fall, and badminton in the winter. Paul was happy to know that she liked to play sports. He hoped that she liked to watch sports, too, because he did. Maybe she could even watch his games! It turns out that they even like the same tv shows! They both liked crime shows. _More things they can do together_ thought Paul. He had a feeling that this was going to be a great summer.

They had reached the entrance of the border crossing zone. Each line was equally long so Paul joined the closest line. The cars weren't moving very much, so Paul took this as his opportunity to talk to her. "I had a really great time today," Paul told her earnestly.

"Me too," she agreed. Paul's heart was racing with excitement. He was glad that their first date went so well. "I'm glad we went. It was unlike anything ever in La Push. There's nothing thrilling about La Push." That's where she was terribly wrong. La Push was anything but boring. That is, if you're in on the supernatural secret. To the regular civilians of La Push, La Push was ordinary and boring.

Paul had an idea. "Well, there is one thing in La Push that's pretty fun. Have you ever been cliff diving, Rachel?"

"Cliff diving?!" she shrieked. "You mean jumping off the thirty foot rocky ledge along the highway? Please tell me you do _not_ do that."

He wanted to laugh. It would take a whole lot more than a thirty foot drop to injure a shapeshifter as indestructible as himself. "It's really fun, Rach. It's perfectly safe, as long as you're with someone as experienced as I am."

She didn't say anything after that comment so Paul said, "So what do you say? I'll make us a picnic, we can hit the water, I'll show you the cliffs… will you go on a second date with me Rachel?"

"That's – wait, what? _Second_ date? I – we – you..." she was really flustered. Normally he would have found her blush and stutter very adorable, but not in this context. Not in a context where she was turning him down. "Today wasn't a date," she finally articulated.

"I asked you out, Rachel. You said yes. What else could today have been?" This was the first time Paul had been anything but happy with Rachel. He felt like they just took a huge step backwards in their relationship… if he could even call it that anymore.

"I don't know! I thought we were just going as pals. People do that, you know." Paul didn't buy it. There was no way she thought they were going as friends. Paul calmed down. "Rachel, you can't honestly tell me you thought I asked you out as friends."

"You're _seventeen_ Paul. You're my little brother's friend. That would be _weird_."

"How is it weird?" he asked her, desperation in his voice.

"Haven't you ever heard of the bro code? Friends should never date their friends' siblings."

"Well that's a stupid rule!" He considered telling her that he wasn't even friends with Jake. Maybe that would change her mind. "What if I wasn't friends with Jake? Would that change things?"

"No."

"Why?" he whined.

"Because you're _seventeen_. I'm _twenty one_. There's a huge age gap!"

"Rachel that is ageist! I'm offended," he said, hoping to play the ageism card.

"Well you wanted to know so you got your answer," she said.

"It's not a big deal Rachel! In the long run a four year age gap hardly makes a difference."

"Look, I like you as a friend but I'm not interested in dating a teenager."

"Do I look like I'm a teenager, Rachel?" She didn't answer. "No," he said for her. "Do I act like I'm a teenager?" He was going to answer for her again when she said, "yeah."

"How? How do I act like a seventeen year old?" he was almost shouting now. He tried to keep his anger at bay so he didn't have a phasing accident.

"Well," she said with sarcasm, "we can start with the way you're acting right now."

"You're the one who's being immature. You think age matters. Newsflash, it doesn't."

" _It matters._ " She enunciated each word clearly.

"Why?!" Paul was getting frustrated. They were going around in circles.

"Because you're the same age as my brother. It would be like dating my brother which is wrong. "

"What kind of logic is that? That makes zero sense!"

"It's good logic," she gritted out.

"Excellent answer!" he said sarcastically. "Ten points to Gryffindor."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at his unwanted sarcasm. "Whatever." She turned away from him.

Paul huffed. "If I wasn't friends with your brother and if I wasn't seventeen, then would you go out with me?" Rachel didn't answer him. "Look, people aren't going to give a damn so you shouldn't either." Rachel was still ignoring him. He felt like she was the one acting really immature right now. "Why would you let something as trivial as age stop you from having a relationship with someone you like?"

"Who ever said I liked you?" stated Rachel. Paul was exasperated now. Why was she being so difficult? He took a deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. Paul was ready to sort this issue out right now and get it over with, but their conversation was interrupted.

"Passports, please," said the officer at the booth. Paul handed over the passports through the window. Paul released a strangled breath as he leaned her arm against the window and set his head in his hand. He could see that Rachel was looking out the window refusing to look in his direction. "Everything okay?" asked the officer, probably with suspicion. Paul wondered if the officer could have heard their conversation earlier.

"Uh, yeah," said Paul quickly. "Everything is fine." He straightened his posture and gave a smile. Rachel, too, attempted to clear her face of all the previous emotions, but her cheeks, bright red with fluster, would be hard to hide.

"Okay," said the officer, looking carefully at Paul and Rachel. The officer could probable feel the tension in the car. Paul hoped their uneasiness wouldn't cause any problems here. The last thing they wanted was to be pulled over for suspicious behaviour. The officer closed one passport and flipped through the second one. "And what was the reason for your trip?"

"Just a short trip to the P.N.E.," answered Paul, without elaborating.

"And how long were you in Canada for?"

"Two days and one night."

"Where did you stay?"

"A motel on Crescent Street."

"Do you have anything to declare?"

"No," said Paul.

"And who is this car registered to?"

"That would be Rachel, sir." Paul felt like they were getting the third degree here. Yesterday had been a breeze and today they were getting more questions. The officer seemed to have his suspicions about them. It was probably because they were so flustered when they pulled up.

"Ma'am," the officer looked over to Rachel. Paul was worried, they usually didn't address anyone else but the driver. "Are you the legal guardian of this young man?" he said to Rachel. That was just the icing on the cake after their argument.

"No," she said.

"Are you aware that this young man is a minor?"

"Uh, yes."

The man turned his gaze back to Paul. "I'm going to need to see some verification from your legal guardians as proof that they are allowing you to cross the border."

"What? But we're _from_ Washington. If anything you should be asking for verification on the way _out_ of Washington, not _into_ Washington. The officer didn't stop us yesterday." Paul thought this was ridiculous.

"Young man, I'm going to need to bring your car over to the inspection area."

"What? She's not kidnapping me, if that's what you think."

" _Paul_ ," Rachel hissed, "Just follow the orders please." Paul rolled his eyes and drove the car over to the side where an officer in a reflective vest was waiting to investigate them.

And the best worst-first-not-a-date award goes to Paul and Rachel.

Author's note:

I tried something new and included some more mature content at the beginning of the chapter. I might change the rating to M and continue to write more content like this… but I need to know what you guys think about that… so please REVIEW and let me know. I really do appreciate all the reviews I get. I promise you that I read every single one that I get, and I'll reply if you have any questions! Stay tuned for the next chapter!


	4. Nonprint

Paul had no choice but to drive the car to the far corner of the inspecting zone. Paul and Rachel exited the car as requested by the officer. A different pair of officers began to open each of the doors, searching under the seats and in all the little nooks and crannies. The first officer asked Paul for his legal guardian's phone number. Paul took a split second to decide whether he needed to give Sam's number as a cover, or if it was safe to give his father's number. Not wanting to get Rachel into any further trouble, he decided to play it safe and give the officer his father's phone number.

Rachel stood away from the car on the curb. She probably wanted to be alone after their argument, but Paul's imprint instinct drew him over to her like two magnets of opposite poles. Although Paul stayed on the ground while Rachel stood atop the six inch curb, he was still tall enough to see well over her head. She looked very small and doll-like to Paul.

Rachel didn't acknowledge his presence even when Paul focused his gaze on her profile in attempt to gain her attention. Rachel continued to stare ahead at the line of cars proceeding through customs. She let out a shaky breath that would have been inaudible to average humans but it was a loud siren to Paul's ears. He wanted to tell her that it would be okay and they would be out of here soon but his attention was suddenly diverted to the officer making the call to his father.

Paul could hear his dad grumble an annoyed _hello_ after the fifth ring. Paul was glad that they got rid of their answering machine recently. If they still had it, there was a high chance that his dad would have let the call go to the machine. The officer asked if she was speaking with the father of Paul Lahote. "Good god, what has the boy done?" Paul's father had no faith in him. It started when Paul first began phasing. He'd always been a bit of a troublemaker even in his pre-wolf days, but nothing too far out of control. When he started phasing, he had to leave his house at odd hours and come home in the middle of the night. Paul would make up blatantly obvious excuses, which his father did not take well to. Mr. Lahote grew tried grounding him, taking away his electronics, and threatening to throw him out of the house so eventually he gave up all hope and quit caring. Little did he know, Paul was practically a vigilante. He was a hero! If only his father knew…

The officer explained the situation to Mr. Lahote: that a female adult, non-family member was attempting to cross the border with his son. "So?" asked his father. Paul began to tremble with rage, not at his father's lack of concern, but at the officer's unjust insinuations about Rachel. She made Rachel out to be some sort of disgusting abducting criminal who was either going to take advantage of Paul or cut him up into tiny untraceable pieces. Paul did not appreciate the officer's tone of disapproval. That lady had no right to speak about his imprint like that. Paul wanted to smash something into smithereens right now.

Rachel turned to Paul with eyes of worry when he started trembling. She froze for a split second before she cautiously stepped away from Paul without taking her eyes off his shaking form. She was afraid of him and that only made Paul's anger bubble up even more. Paul desperately tried to get a grip on his anger but the thought of scaring Rachel only amplified his anger towards himself. Rachel took another step away from him. The farther the distance Rachel put between them, the more he felt his anger slipping farther and farther away from his control.

The more he tried to supress his anger, the more is ignited. It was like trying to fall asleep: the harder you try the more difficult it gets. Paul unintentionally worked himself up to the brink of phasing. He felt his body temperature rise, surpassing its already unnaturally hot fever. His lungs were expanding and taking in twice as much air, preparing to accommodate for the increased oxygen needs of a giant mammal. He felt his muscles rippling and his bones quaking, ready to rupture into a furry wolf. Paul struggled to remain in contact with the executive homunculus of his brain; the area that controlled conscious and logical thinking.

Paul thought about how Rachel was feeling right now. He was sure she was probably more than a little freaked out. His instincts told him to comfort her and he couldn't comfort her as a ferocious wolf. He knew he had to calm down for Rachel's sake. Once he felt the excess heat evaporate from his body and his muscles and bones stopped quaking, he was ready to comfort Rachel. Paul wasn't sure how to approach such a task. She was afraid of him, after all. On instinct he took a step forward with an outstretched hand to make contact with her. She retreated ever so slightly. That hurt. "Rachel, I'm so incredibly sorry. Please - "

"You two are free to go," said the investigating officer monotonously.

"Thank you, officer," said Rachel sweetly. Paul couldn't help think that the officer didn't deserve Rachel's kindness after what she insinuated about Rachel.

Paul waited until the officer returned to their stations before he turned back to Rachel, ready with an apology. He was surprised to see Rachel's fear replaced by calmness almost immediately as if Paul wasn't about to explode only moments ago. She held her hand open in front of him. Paul wondered what she wanted. He almost placed his hand in hers until she clarified her intentions. "Keys." She wiggle her fingers as if to say _hurry up_. Paul wondered why she wanted to drive now. He wondered if she planned to drive off without him after he freaked her out. Again, Rachel added some clarification, "I don't think you should be driving right now. Not in this state."

"I can _drive_ ," said Paul defensively.

"Uh huh. Just give me the keys."

"I'm fine!" Paul raised his voice. "I'm not in any sort of 'state'!" He wasn't exactly helping his case.

Rachel touched his shoulder. That certainly calmed Paul down very quickly. Her touch was like ambrosia to a wound, or water dousing his fiery rage. "It's okay Paul. I know about your condition and it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"Wait, what?" Paul wondered how she could possibly know about his werewolf temperament. He wondered if maybe Billy told her about the secret before she left as a precaution. Paul suddenly felt disappointed that Billy didn't trust him. Paul was even more disappointed in himself that he almost lost complete control.

"It's not something you can control. It's biological and genetic in nature. You can't help it." She was comforting him now! How quickly the tables turn. "So give me the keys and I'll drive."

"I can drive," argued Paul again. He liked Rachel's comfort and normally would never turn it down, but this was different. Rachel didn't like driving for good reason. He didn't want to put her through the trepidation of driving when it was completely unnecessary.

"It's not safe for you to drive, Paul."

"Of course it is. I'm a much better driver because of it." Didn't her dad explain anything to her? Paul's reflexes were heightened, making him one of the safest people to be riding in a car with.

"What?" Rachel's brows knit together. She waved her hand in the air dismissively. "Fine, your driving is not impaired by your condition," she loosely admitted. "Will you please give me the keys now?"

"I'm driving," Paul said, with as much finality as he could muster up. It was hard to order around an imprint. He didn't like going against her wishes but it was for her own good, Paul told himself.

"What the hell? No. It's my car, now give me my damn keys," said Rachel in a low voice, through clenched teeth.

Paul was taken aback by Rachel's language. Granted, _hell_ and _damn_ weren't exactly a new addition to his vocabulary, but he never heard them come from Rachel's lips before and he certainly never her them coming from her and directed at him. It made him feel awful to know she was that enraged with him. "Please Rachel, let me drive," pleaded Paul. Paul wondered if the imprint bond worked both ways. He would do anything Rachel asked at the drop of a hat. Would she do what he wanted if he pleaded on his hands and knees?

"Why? Why is it so important to you? Do you have some sort of patriarchist gender role ideals?"

"No!" said Paul, once again defensively. This was their second fight of the night and it was awful. It made Paul's stomach sick. He didn't want to argue with her anymore. He sighed and gave her the truth. "I know you don't like driving Rachel. I don't want you to have to suffer through driving if you don't have to."

Her mouth opened in surprise but no words came out at first. "Who said that?"

"Nobody. I figured it out on my own." He wondered if anybody else besides him knew. Judging by her reaction he guessed that somebody must know. He wondered if Billy and Jake knew. Rachel used to drive Jake around until he got his license last year. She was still driving Billy around, especially when her stupid brother wasn't there to drive his father because he was too busy pulling a disappearing act. It would be cruel of them to ask her to drive knowing her shaky past with vehicles.

Then again, maybe nobody knew. Knowing how stubborn Rachel is, she probably insisted to everyone that she was fine. She was pretty good at putting on a solid front, but Paul had the extra advantage of the imprint to help him see her more clearly. "Well then you figured wrongly. Give me the keys and I'll prove it," said Rachel.

Paul shook his head. "You don't have to prove anything, Rachel. Nobody would blame you if you didn't want to drive, okay? We'd all understand." Paul could see the wateriness coating her eyes even in the dim light of the evening sky.

She bit back her tears and spoke in a strained voice. "I don't have any issues with driving."

"I never said that," he told her. "But I drove us here so I might as well drive us home."

"I let you drive because I thought you would like driving. I'm sorry if I made a wrong assumption. You should have let me know if you wanted to switch." He wanted to tell Rachel that she didn't need to pretend with him. She didn't have to put on a brave face and pretend like everything was all right.

"No, you were right. I like driving and I know that you don't so I want to drive us home."

Rachel scoffed. At least she wasn't close to tears anymore. "Sure, I dislike driving as much as the next person. I mean, the novelty of driving has worn off by now and I wouldn't consider driving to be a fun pastime, but I'm not afraid if that's what you think."

"That's not what I think," he said with exasperation. "Look, we've been here too long. They're going to think something suspicious is going on if we don't get going."

"Then give me the keys," said Rachel. Paul huffed and gave in. There was no stopping Rachel when she wanted something for two reasons. The first reason being how stubborn she was, and the second reason being that she was his imprint and he would always do what she wanted even if it went against his instincts. He fished the keys out of his left pocket and reluctantly put them in her waiting hand.

"Great, let's get going then, shall we?" said Rachel with a hint of bitterness in her voice. Rachel climbed in the driver's seat and was barely able to reach the wheel. Paul guessed that her foot came nowhere near the gas pedal. Rachel adjusted the seat and brought herself as close as the chair would allow and raised it as high up as it would go. Paul on the other hand had to bring the passenger's seat all the way back before he could climb in. _Darn,_ thought Paul. He could have used that as another argument for why he should drive: the seats were already adjusted to fit them nicely.

The first thing Rachel did once she started the car was turn the radio on. That was another sign that she didn't want to talk. Paul didn't realize when he had become so talkative and concerned about communication. He'd fought with girlfriends before and he'd never wanted to talk things out. He usually avoided talking at all costs and just waited it out until the post-argument hot make out session started. For once he wanted a girl to be chatty. He wanted her to open up and stop being so secluded. He even wanted her to be a little clingy and needy. At least then he'd know that he had her attention and affection; he'd know that he was needed and appreciated. Right now he was just another average joe to her and he wanted to be more for her.

The car was filled with tension between them. Paul's eyes darted around the car, not entirely sure where to look. He wanted to look at Rachel but he knew she probably wouldn't like it. Rachel was sitting very stiffly and gripping the wheel tightly. Paul wondered if that was because she didn't feel comfortable driving, or because of the awkward tension in the car. It probably had a little to do with both.

Since Rachel wasn't initiating a conversation any time soon, Paul had to take matters into his own hands. He turned the volume dial to the left, effectively decreasing the volume. That earned him a half-glare from Rachel. "So who told you about the…condition." Rachel had called it a condition before. "Was it Billy? Did he tell you that I was dangerous or something? Because I'm not. I'm really not, I promise you."

"What? No. Why would my dad know that about you?"

It was Paul's turn to exclaim in confusion. "What? Then who told you?"

"Embry told me."

"Embry? Embry told you?" Paul was thoroughly confused. Why would Embry be telling her the secret? "Why would Embry tell you?" The thought of Embry having the werewolf conversation with Rachel made Paul angry. The werewolf conversation should be an important and intimate conversation between a wolf and his imprint. Embry was stealing that moment away from Paul and he didn't like it one bit. The only thing that could be worse is if Embry robbed him of the experience of having the imprint conversation. He briefly wondered if Embry already told her about it. Paul huffed. "What did he tell you?"

Rachel rolled her eyes. "Calm down Paul. Embry told me because he thought it was important for me to know." Paul understood that it was an important secret, but it still didn't excuse Embry for cheating him of something that only happens once in a lifetime if you're lucky. Embry was probably just jealous because he didn't have an imprint of his own so he had to go and screw with Paul's imprint. "He only told me the basics. He said you might want to explain the rest…"

"And you're not afraid of me?"

"No…" said Rachel slowly. She eyed Paul from her peripheral vision. "Should I be?"

"No! I swear to you I'll never hurt you. I'll protect you from everything."

"Okay…?"

"Okay?" he echoed. "That's it? Wow. You're taking this better than I expected."

"Well, I think almost every girl could relate."

"Oh." Paul had no idea what that was supposed to mean. "What do you mean?"

"A lot of girls have mood swings and PMS. It's pretty common. No big deal."

"Oh," repeated Paul. He wasn't making the connection between her words. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Rachel narrowed her eyes at Paul in confusion. "IMS?"

"What the hell is that?"

"Your condition… Irritable male syndrome? It's like PMS but for men?" she asked, trying to jog his memory. "It's likely caused by low testosterone and results in irritability and a lot of other symptoms similar to PMS. Embry told me you sometimes have a short temper because of it. But it's okay Paul. Embry said you might be embarrassed about it, but like I said, it could be genetic or due to some kind of… substance, so it's not your fault." Rachel was hinting at her suspicion of him using steroids again. Steroids would cause low testosterone and would cause his… irritable male syndrome.

Paul drew air through his teeth making a sound of disapproval. Paul wasn't sure whether to be relieved or infuriated. He was relieved to know that he still had the chance to explain the whole wolf-imprint secret, but he was infuriated with Embry for screwing with him again. Paul decided he would be both relieved and infuriated.

He wanted to correct Rachel and tell her that Embry was such a lying little ass. It would be a perfect transition into the werewolf conversation. He could tell her that Embry was wrong and that there was a better explanation. He would tell her to keep an open mind about things and to just listen for a few minutes. He would remind her of the legends and slowly give her evidence of the legends being more than just a story. Paul didn't want to tell her in a car though, especially when she was driving. Telling her now would freak her out and put her in a dangerous situation. That was the last thing he wanted. Paul knew he would have to wait until he got to know her more and got her to trust him before he decided to tell her something that might cause her to think he was insane.

"Embry is such a little liar. Don't believe anything he says, especially when he says things about me. Okay? I do _not_ have male PMS." Paul was probably starting to sound like he was in denial.

"Okay," said Rachel, clearly in disbelief. Yeah, Paul really wished he could tell her about the werewolf situation. That would really clear things up.

"Seriously, like, I don't have male PMS."

"You said that already. I got it."

Paul rested his head in his right hand, leaning against the door. His fingers massaged his forehead. The more he denied it the more he only confirmed Rachel's speculation of him having IMS.

There was no convincing Rachel otherwise. "Seriously, I don't have that. And even if I did, I promise you that I'd never hurt you. Please, please, please, don't be afraid of me. I'd rather kill myself than hurt you. I swear." Paul wished Rachel would look into his eyes to see how much he meant those words, but she was concentrating on the road, and or avoiding him on purpose.

"'Kay then. I'm not afraid, you know," she said nonchalantly.

"Really," said Paul as he cocked his head. He was sure Rachel could see his movements from her peripheral vision.

"Yeah. Really. I admit that I was startled at first but I'm pretty sure you're as harmless as a fly."

It was strange. All of a sudden Paul went from trying to convince her that he wasn't dangerous to trying to display his dominance and ferocity. "Well, I don't know about _that_ ," said Paul, semi-seriously. "You've seen these guns. I'm a dangerous beast." Paul flexed to remind her of his muscles. To Paul's dismay, Rachel didn't look. Not even a quick peak.

Paul put his arm back down. Paul wanted to talk about their argument before he lost his chance. "Um, so, about earlier in the car…"

"Let's just forget today happened, okay?"

Paul wondered if she meant that she wanted to erase the entire day and go back to the way things were, or if she wanted a re-do date. He could deal with the latter option if that's what she wanted. "Like you want to have a re-do day?" Fortunately Paul was able to stop himself before he added the 't' sound to the word day. He did want to chance it by mentioning the word 'date' again.

"I think we should just forget about this entire trip altogether… Let's just pretend it never happened and just move on. So… no hard feelings about what was said?"

"Okay," said Paul. "If that's what you want…" he said dejectedly. Rachel nodded her head. The next hour and a half was silent. Paul wasn't sure what else he could say now. He did notice that Rachel almost spoke to him several times, but stopped herself before a syllable could escape. Paul could tell by the way she inhaled and exhaled with the movement of her diaphragm. He wished she would just spit it out. He was dying to hear her voice, even if it brought him more misery.

Paul felt a little adventurous. "Want to play a game?" He hoped for a positive answer. He really couldn't take much more rejection now.

"No, I should really concentrate on driving."

"You're doing fine." Paul hope that didn't sound too condescending. "Come on," he pleaded.

"I need to stay alert and focused."

"Exactly! A game will keep you awake and focused."

"I don't need help staying awake, but you should really get some rest though."

"I want to keep you company. You shouldn't have to drive alone."

"Driving is really a solo activity… You should catch some sleep, really." She was politely telling him to take a hike. Paul liked that about Rachel; she was always so nice.

"How about you play a game with me, and then I'll take a nap, be out of your hair, whatever it is that you want from me." Rachel didn't answer. Paul took that as a silent agreement. He grinned with excitement. "So… never have I ever?" she shook her head. "Marry, shag or kill? Would you rather, truth or dare, two truths one lie?" She shook her head again. Paul had one last game in mind. "Twenty one questions," he stated, attempting to give Rachel little choice in the matter. "Come on, just twenty one little questions." Rachel didn't make any sign of agreement. "I'll leave you alone afterwards, since you seem to dislike me so much…" said Paul with a gloomy disposition.

"I don't dislike you Paul. It's been a long day and I just want to go home."

"Hey," said Paul with a soft expression. "I know it's been rough but things are going to get better. I promise you that. We're on our way home and there's not much we can do to get there any faster so why don't we pass the time with a little game?"

Rachel inhaled deeply before answering. "Three questions," negotiated Rachel.

Paul tilted his head and cocked an eyebrow. "Ten?"

"Three." Rachel stuck to her guns.

"Seven?"

"Three."

"Five?"

"Three. That's my final offer."

"That was your only offer," Paul muttered lightheartedly. "Fine, three questions then. I don't think you know how to negotiate very well. You're supposed to meet the other partner halfway."

"I don't know about that Paul. I think I did pretty well. I got what I wanted," she teased.

"You go first," said Paul. Paul wanted more time to think of a good question to ask. Having only a fraction of the number of questions he expected to have, he had to pick and choose very carefully now.

"Uh," she thought for a brief second. "Do you like…chocolate or vanilla better?"

Paul frowned. "Are you sure that's what you want to ask? You could ask me anything you want! Like, literally, anything you want to know about me, I'll tell you."

Rachel shrugged. "Nah, I think I'm satisfied with my question." She clearly just want to get this over and done with.

"Really," said Paul without the questioning intonation. "Come on, ask me a better question." He wanted Rachel to take this seriously. He wanted Rachel to be interested in him. He was hoping for a good heart to heart conversation to bring them closer together but she seemed to want to stay closed up. "Just humor me, please."

"I don't know what was wrong with my question. It had an auxiliary verb, a subject, and a main verb. That was perfect grammar."

"That wasn't the kind of humor I had in mind," said Paul with slight frustration.

"What, don't tell me you're out of humor now?" A pun. It was hard to stay frustrated at Rachel when she was trying to make jokes.

Paul couldn't help but smile. "Fine, you can ask whatever questions you want, but I'm warning you now that I'm going to grill you with my questions."

"Chocolate or vanilla?" she repeated, not backing down.

Truthfully, Paul never had a favourite. Recently, though, Paul established a preference. "Vanilla - "

"Cool," said Rachel unenthusiastically.

"Wait, I never answered why." He was about to tell her that he liked vanilla better because it reminded him of her.

"We have to answer why too?" she said exasperatedly.

"Well, yeah. That's the whole point of this." Rachel continued to stare ahead out of the windshield. "Why won't you play along Rachel?"

"Is that you first question?"

Paul considered that for a moment. Did he want to use one of his precious questions to know why Rachel didn't want to play? "Yeah, that's my question. And you have to answer honestly and truthfully and thoughtfully. Those are the rules." Paul knew it was a longshot asking her for a thoughtful and truthful answer. She wasn't taking the game seriously and he didn't expect her to start now, but he had to try at least.

Rachel stayed silent for almost half a minute. Paul was about to give up when she spoke at last. "I don't know." That was a terrible start. Paul wasn't looking for any uncertain answers. He gave her an encouraging look to continue. "I don't think it's such a good idea for us to get to know each other like this…"

"What do you mean?"

Rachel paused again, like she was trying to get the phrasing right. She bluntly said, "I – I'm not interested in you, Paul." That was a major blow to Paul's ego. "I don't want to lead you on any more than I already have. I'm sorry if the signs were mixed earlier today… but this is what it is." Paul wished he didn't ask this question now. He was starting to regret his choice. "I don't think it's a good idea to ask each other questions like this…"

"But we're friends though, right?"

"Sure."

"Good, because I'm happy to have you as my friend. And friends play this game all the time. They're just questions, right? By the way, that was not my second question." Paul was not going to give up. He knew she liked him as more than a friend because he felt the imprint bond too and it sure as hell was not just a friend-bond as far as he could tell. He would wait until she was ready to admit her feelings for him… except he wasn't quite that patient. He wanted her to love him right now.

"Yeah, they're just questions but it's the context and the people…"

"What about the people?" he said innocently.

"I don't know, Paul. I think you…" She was all shy and flustered. It was cute. "I get the impression that you… Well, I thought that you liked me as more than a friend." Paul couldn't help but grin at her struggle to get the words out, like she was embarrassed. She was so humble and modest.

Paul neither denied nor confirmed her accurate speculations. "But you said you wanted to forget this whole trip ever happened. So that means we don't know each other at all… which means there really isn't any context involved."

"I - " said Rachel. "Can't argue with that?" supplied Paul. Rachel pressed her lips together and eyed Paul with her peripheral vision. He took that as a yes. "Your turn to ask a question," encouraged Paul.

Rachel gave it a moment of thought. "If you could have a superpower what would it be?" Paul was happy to see Rachel stepping up her questions. He almost wished Rachel saved this question for the future, maybe once their relationship had progressed to dating. It would have been a perfect transition question leading to explanation of the whole human-werewolf-protect-the-tribe-from-vampires act he had going on.

"That's an easy one. I'd want to have the ability to shapeshift into a wolf."

"So, like, a werewolf then?"

"Sort of, except werewolves transform with exposure to a full moon. Shapeshifters on the other hand have full control over their transformations… well to some extent, anyway." Anger was also a trigger, as Paul knew first hand.

"Uh-huh." Rachel clearly didn't believe in mythical creatures.

"Yeah. I'd be a shapeshifter, like the ones from our tribe's legends. I'd protect the tribe from vampires and anything else. I'd make sure that everyone I love would always be safe," _namely Rachel_.

"That's pretty selfless."

Paul shrugged. "Well, superpowers come with responsibilities."

"That's… really thoughtful."

"Yeah, well, the res and people on the res are important to me. So my turn now. What would your perfect date be like?"

"Date as in the company, or date as in the events of the social meeting?"

Paul pondered that for a moment. "I think you should answer both."

"Then that counts as two questions," said Rachel.

"Nu-uh. That's one question with a part a and b." Rachel wouldn't agree. "Come on, I gave in to you your request for three questions. The least you can do it let me have a bonus half question."

"All right then. Uh, let's see. Perfect date… I guess my perfect date would be someone who I have a lot in common with; someone who shares a lot of the same interests as I do. Probably someone who is pretty similar to myself… but not so similar that we'd bore each other. And not someone so similar that we wouldn't be able to balance each other out, you know? Like, every high strung person needs a laid back partner and vice versa." Paul wondered whether she considered herself the high strung or laid back half of the relationship. Whichever she was, he'd gladly be the other.

"And your perfect date setting and events would be?"

Rachel inhaled as she thought. "I don't know. I guess it really doesn't matter as long as you're with the right person. I don't know if there is such a thing as the perfect date… I mean, there are definitely good dates and bad dates, but I don't think I'd be able to give a description of the perfect date… it just doesn't exist." That answer didn't satisfy Paul. It was such an inconclusive answer.

"All right, instead of the perfect date I'll settle for a description of a good date then." Paul wasn't going to let Rachel off the hook for a question that easily.

"I don't know. I'm really not that picky." Paul still wasn't satisfied with that answer. He looked at her expectantly for more elaboration. "All right, all right. I guess I like simple and casual dates. Um, nothing that involves singing, dancing, or looking at art… Other than that I'm pretty open to anything. I think as long as the company is good then it doesn't really matter where the date is, you know?"

 _Excellent_ , thought Paul. He could do simple and casual!

"Yeah, I think I know what you mean." Paul wanted to fish for more information. "So… like, would your perfect date bring you flowers?"

"Is that you final question, Paul?"

Paul shook his head. "Oh, no. This is merely a question of clarification."

"Oh, right, of course," said Rachel sarcastically. "Well, my perfect date would know whether to bring flowers or not," she said with a smirk.

Paul nodded at her sneaky answer. She wasn't going to give out any extra information. She agreed to three questions and she wasn't about to give him any extra for free. "All right, then. Your go," said Paul.

"So what's with your tattoo? What does it mean?"

Paul was caught off guard. He didn't know she knew about his tattoo. He had been wearing t-shirts that cover his upper bicep whenever he was with Rachel. She finally asked him a question he had to think about. "It's an ancient tribal symbol. It represents who I am and where I come from. It represents my past and my future… It symbolizes my duty and loyalty to the tribe… that I am bound to our tribe and will one day be bound to someone."

"Bound as in married?" asked Rachel. This intrigued Paul. She could have asked about anything he just said; she could have asked about what he meant by his past and future, or about his loyalty to the tribe, but she focused on the last part like she was interested in it.

"More than married. Bound as in our destinies being intertwined together since day one… Like it was meant to be and it was planned all along. I'll be devoted to… her forever." Paul wanted to say 'you' instead of 'her' but he decided against it. "She'll be everything I'll ever need and I'll spend my entire life trying to be all that she needs." To the imprint-less boys, it was just a tattoo that symbolized their allegiance to the tribe. To those that imprinted, it was a reminder of their new life as a wolf and as an imprinter. It was a reminder of their newfound happiness and that all of their happiness was a gift from the wolf spirits.

"So you've planned out your entire life to wait on hand and foot for some girl?"

"It's not really like that. I'll do whatever she wants, be whatever she wants and it'll never be a chore. I'll be happiest when I'm doing what she wants."

"Oh," said Rachel.

"What was that 'oh' for?"

"Nothing… I guess I just…"

"You just…?" prodded Paul.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but I didn't peg you for that kind of person."

"Well, what kind of person did you have me pegged for?"

"Um, I don't know. You know what? Just never mind what I said. I take it back." Now Paul was exceptionally curious. It was like telling someone you have a secret to tell them and then deciding not to share it. He had to know!

"That's what I want to use my third question for," Paul told her.

"I don't know, Paul. I don't want to offend you."

"You won't," assured Paul.

"Fine. I guess I figured you to be more of a 'live in the now' type of person. I didn't think you'd be imagining what your future fairy tale would be like."

"Keep going," said Paul. He knew there was more she left unsaid.

"That's it. That's all." Paul gave her a look of disbelief. "Okay," amended Rachel. "I sort of thought you were a bit of a _playboy_ , if you will. I didn't think you cared about that stuff you mentioned. I didn't think you were the type to want to settle down with one girl. I mean, you _are_ only seventeen. It's not like most boys your age are thinking about being tied down already." So Rachel thought he wasn't looking for a serious relationship. Maybe that was why she wouldn't give him a chance.

"I wouldn't put it quite like that. Finding your soul mate and getting to be with them shouldn't sound so unpleasant! I mean, being 'tied down' implies some sort of unwanted constriction or loss of freedom and fun. I'd count my lucky stars every single day if I ever got my chance to be with my soul mate."

"That's… rather insightful, Paul. I had no idea you felt that way." Rachel sounded genuinely impressed. It was kind of like they were having a moment. "Okay, so we're done now?" And the moment was gone.

"Uh, yeah," he said in a loud exhale. "You kept up your end of the deal, so now I'll keep mine. I'll leave you alone now… if that's what you want." Paul hoped she wouldn't send him away.

"I think you should get some sleep," she said politely. It was frustrating. They just had a good conversation and it felt like he was making progress with her and she shuts him out again. Paul had no choice but to follow her wishes. He settled against the side of the car and closed his eyes. He wasn't by any means tired, but he faked it. He threw in a heavy breath every once in a while to add to the authenticity of his acting. He figured Rachel would only get her piece of mind if she truly felt like she was alone.

Paul wasn't sure when he was allowed to 'wake up' from his feigned slumber. Rachel didn't say how much time alone she wanted. She could have meant twenty minutes or two hours. Paul figured it was better to stay asleep and not bother her any more. He didn't want to push her too much in one night.

It was another hour before Rachel pulled into the res. Paul could tell by the way the gravel crunched under the tires. "Paul," she whispered. Paul thought his performance should be as genuine as possible, so he didn't rise at first. Rachel shook his shoulder gently and said, "Paul," again.

"Hm?" he said groggily.

"Where do you live?"

Paul lived near the outskirts of the res. It was near the patrol border. "Pine and Blossom," he said. He was sad that their night was coming to an end. He wasn't sure when he would get to spend time with her again. She might start avoiding him like the plague. This could have been his only chance to make her fall for him. "Twenty four Blossom Ave."

Rachel pulled into his driveway. His house was completely dark indicating that his dad was already asleep. The neighboring houses were black, too, and the surrounding area was poorly lit. A few dim lampposts gave off just enough illumination for Rachel to drive safely. She slid the gear shift into park and killed the engine. Rachel sneakily slipped out the door before Paul could give her the whole end-of-a-date-goodnight speech that would hopefully end in a sweet kiss. Paul knew that a good kiss was a make-or-break kind of deal for some women. Maybe if he could just kiss her she would see how perfect he was for her.

She went to open the trunk and back doors to fetch the prizes that he won. Paul joined her outside. "You should keep those," he insisted.

"There's no way I can keep them all. Besides, they're your trophies. You clearly have a lot more skill that I expected." Rachel walked up to the front door and waited for him to come with the keys. Paul unlocked the door and shoved a bag of prizes into the foyer.

"At least keep this one," said Paul as he took out the giant grey wolf plush.

"Okay," agreed Rachel. Paul liked how little convincing that took. Rachel took the grey wolf under her arm. She was about to leave when Paul caught her free arm.

"Wait," he breathed. He looked deeply into her questioning eyes. His hand trailed down from her arm to rest in her hand. He brought himself dangerously close to her body. He wanted to ask her out again _as a friend_ and maybe kiss her cheek before letting her go. Maybe, if the imprint gods were feeling generous, Rachel would respond well and he'd get a real kiss from her.

Paul was standing so close that he could feel Rachel's shallow breaths on his neck. She swallowed audibly and parted her lips as if she were preparing for a kiss. Paul wondered if that was intentional or unintentional on her part. His other hand came up to her cheek and slid down to the back of her neck. Rachel even leaned inwards towards Paul's body to close the gap. All Paul had to do was inch forward a couple more centimeters and their lips would meet.

Paul's plans were stopped short when he saw the rustle of the forest trees milliseconds before hearing the rush of wind, and seconds before catching an awful whiff of rotten corpse. A tall and skinny vampire sprinted right towards them, with his sights set on Rachel. His red irises surrounded by redness in the whites due to lack of food made his eyes seem like pure red pools of bloodthirst. His tongue hung out as he salivated at the thought of a meal or two.

"Get in the house!" shouted Paul as he forcefully pulled on her hand, sending her stumbling through the doorway. Paul didn't have time to shut the door or make sure Rachel wasn't about to watch a live show. He sprung off the porch and detonated into a giant grey wolf. He let out a dangerous growl as a warning. When the vampire didn't back down, Paul surged forward with teeth ready to shred.

Paul could faintly hear Rachel's shrill bloodcurdling scream, but he had to focus on the task in front of him so he had to ignore her. He wondered how much she had seen. Maybe if Paul was lucky, she'd only see little blurs and he'd be able to fill in the blanks for her with a highly plausible story. This wasn't exactly how he planned for Rachel to find out about the secret.

Paul linked minds with the two wolves on duty: Colin and Embry. _"Embry, take Rachel to Sam's, and Colin, get your ass over here right now!"_ Paul would give them hell for letting this vampire slip through later. Right now he had bigger fish to fry.

Paul jumped to tackle the foaming vampire into the ground but he evaded it with a higher jump. Paul charged forward and snapped his jaws shut, just grazing his clothes. The vampire managed to set his two stone cold hands on Paul's midsection and tossed him into the air. In the time Paul spent flying in the air, the vampire continued his course towards Rachel. There was no way Rachel wouldn't be able to see everything now that the battle scene was giving her an up close and personal HD view. Paul wondered if maybe everything was too fast for her eyes to register.

Rachel screamed again. It was another lengthy high pitched shriek, fit for a horror film. Her vocal chords were going to be sore afterwards.

The lights from the surrounding houses began to flicker on. Neighbours came running down their stairs to see what all the commotion was about. Paul knew he had to take the fight back into the shadows. There was no way he could risk exposing the secret to all these people. Then again, his father would finally understand Paul if he knew about the secret.

Paul threw himself onto the vampire and had him pinned down beneath his five hundred pound frame. Paul sunk his teeth into the vampire's neck, aiming to sever his head from his body. Paul's teeth went through the bone of the spinal cord. He heard the bone shattering beneath his teeth, but it wasn't enough. The vampire threw Paul off and had Paul restrained under his arms. He started pulling and twisting Paul's limbs, as if playing with his food gave him a sadistic pleasure.

Paul faintly felt Embry's connection break, meaning that he must have phased and gotten to Rachel. Rachel began to let loose another scream but it was cut off by what he presumed was Embry's hand over her mouth. "Shh," hushed Embry. "It's just me, Embry," he said in a calm voice. "Let's go, it's not safe here. I promise everything's fine." That was all Paul heard of their conversation before they got into her car and drove away.

While the vampire was busy torturing Paul, Colin was able to take him by surprise with a swift snap of his jaws. Paul had done most of the work already, but Colin finished off the job and decapitated the vampire. For safety precautions Colin dragged the body and head off into the forest area. He dismembered the vampire before phasing back and grabbing a match from his pocket. Colin phased back and gently drew the back of Paul's neck between his teeth and pulled him into the shadows. Paul was impressed with Colin's ability to phase so many times under pressure like that. Paul would have given him a pat on the back or something if he wasn't lying lifelessly on the ground.

Paul lay still trying not to whimper in anguish. His bones were mending themselves agonizingly slowly. Paul felt the individual shards of his broken bones reattaching themselves. He felt the bones grinding against each other as they moved back in place. His recently healed femur grated against his patella in attempt to reset the alignment. He only hoped they were setting correctly.

Though Paul was highly concerned about the chance that his bones weren't aligning correctly, he was even more worried about Rachel. _"Fuck. Rachel,"_ thought Paul to himself. He forgot he wasn't alone with his thoughts.

" _Man, don't worry. Embry's got her."_ That wasn't much comfort. Embry was always screwing around with her. There was no way in hell he'd actually let Embry do the explaining to Rachel. He decided he had to go over now. _"Don't you think you should wait until your bones heal?"_ God, Paul kept forgetting how annoying it was to share a mind.

Colin was right though. There was no way he would be able to make it there with broken bones. _"You could phase back and I could always carry you,"_ offered Colin.

" _No thanks,"_ barked Paul. _"I don't need any more disgusting hands on me tonight. I'll wait."_ Colin stood around awkwardly, looking from Paul to the right to the left and back to Paul. It was seriously annoying Paul. _"Just get out of here."_ Colin took his cue and left Paul to heal alone.

It was ten more minutes before Paul was able to phase back and stealthily sneak into his house to grab some clothes. The neighbours, and his father included, were all outside frantically talking about the frightening screams and growls that they heard. Some were armed with baseball bats, others had hammers and crowbars in their hands. The last thing Paul needed was to be caught in a bad situation so he made himself invisible.

It took Paul only a few minutes to run over to Sam and Emily's place. As he approached the house he could hear four heart beats: Sam, Emily, Embry, and Rachel. Just from listening to the loudness of each heart, he could place Sam and Emily on one couch on the south side, and Rachel and Embry on the opposing couch. Rachel's heart was beating around 190 beats per minute and that wasn't a good sign.

"What the hell was that?" screamed Rachel in a strangled voice. Paul could hear the tears now. She choked on a sob.

"Tell us what you saw," said Emily calmly.

"I – I don't know. There was a g-guy." Rachel was crying so hard that she was hiccupping through her words. "And then Paul just, I – I don't know. He t-turned into something _._ I think the guy was," another hiccup interrupted her speech, "m-murdered by a-a bear."

"Rachel, honey, it's not what it seems like," said Emily.

"W-we have to c-call the cops or the swat team." Rachel began to rifle through her pockets, probably to look for her phone.

"Rachel," said Sam's calm voice, "it's okay. We have something to explain to you first." It sounded like Sam took the phone out of her hand.

"There's no freaking time!" she swore. Most of her hiccupping subsided, but Paul could tell that tears were still streaming down her face. "You're not going to believe me, but Paul turned into a massive devouring monster. He murdered a guy!" Rachel was breathing so quickly now that Paul was afraid she was going to pass out. "Holy crap," said Rachel to herself. "What the hell?"

"Calm down Rachel," said Embry. "He's not a murderer. We can explain everything to you. He's coming right now to explain."

"What?! Holy shit! Please give me my phone. You don't understand! I swear I'm not crazy."

"Nobody thinks you're crazy, Rachel," said Emily. "We all believe you, we know it's true."

"Then why the hell are you guys not doing anything?" she shouted. "Embry! You saw! We had to warn everybody. Oh my god, my dad!

"We're going to explain it in a minute, just take a deep breath, okay?" said Sam's authoritative voice.

"And try not to pass out," added Embry. Paul hurried himself up the porch steps and entered the house. He walked to the living room where he found his friends sitting with Rachel. She was sitting with her knees tucked into her chest. Her face and eyes were reddened from the tears and the hyperventilating. She took one look at Paul and let out another bloodcurdling scream before passing out and falling into Embry's lap.

Author's note:

Thanks for reading everyone! I hope you stay with the story because there is more coming up! Reviews and comments give me inspiration to work harder and faster so hit that review button or PM me!

Quinn – Sorry, I thought Paul was four years younger than Rachel. Thanks for letting me know that he's only a couple years younger. I'll stick with him being 17 and her being 21 for this story but if I write another story later I'll use their correct ages.

Lila, Anonymous1662, ameliabedelia24, and the guest – I really appreciate your comments and hope to hear more from you You have no idea how happy it makes me to get comments!


	5. Offprint

"Nice, dude," said Embry. "You're so ugly that she faints at the sight of you!" Embry laughed at his own insult. Nobody else found it amusing. Paul's hands clenched into tight fists, causing his knuckles to turn white. His nails dug into his skin and drew blood. Paul felt the skin tightening and sewing itself back together, making it as if he never cut himself and Embry never pissed him off.

"Embry," said Emily, Sam and Paul in unison. Emily's tone was more of a gentle chastise while Sam's tone was more of an authoritative command. Paul's tone was of pure rage and threat, though Embry only grinned in response. Embry lived for this kind of attention.

"Paul, maybe you should step out for a little while," suggested Emily. Emily was like the mama bear of the wolf pack. She was very gentle and caring towards all the boys of the wolf pack, but she could be fierce as hell when she needed to keep them in line.

"I need to know she's okay!" said Paul as he advanced forward towards Rachel. He was worried beyond belief about Rachel. She could be dying right now! He only met her a few days ago and already he couldn't live without her. Paul knew he'd have to kill himself if Rachel died. But what would be enough to kill a werewolf? A bullet wouldn't feel so much as a pesky mosquito bite. A jump from a cliff would only fracture a few bones. And Paul refused to surrender himself to a vamp no matter how desperate he was.

Emily's soothing voice brought Paul out of his crazed train of thought. "We've got her. We'll make sure she's fine," said Emily.

Paul ignored Emily's suggestion. "Get up," snarled Paul. Paul didn't like the way Embry was holding Rachel's limp body. Sure, Embry couldn't help it technically; Rachel collapsed and randomly fell to that direction. But Embry didn't have to like it so much. That was what was bothering Paul.

"I'll have to move her to get up. You sure we should move her?"

Emily and Sam joined Paul's side, crowding around Rachel. "He's right, Paul. We probably shouldn't move her if we don't have to. Let's just get her feet propped up." Sam grabbed a few throw pillows from the couch and piled them up under Rachel's feet. Embry shuffled in his seat, trying to keep Rachel as still as possible. His hands reached above Rachel and started hovering around her neckline.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!" shouted Paul.

"We have to loosen tight clothing around the chest and neck," said Embry. "It's first aid 101, dude."

"Then _Emily_ can do that," Paul growled. Embry raised his hands in mock surrender. Embry really took pleasure in getting under Paul's skin. Emily took over with a pair of scissors and skillfully made a cut down the centre of her tight blouse. The cut was just enough to lessen the restriction and just enough to peak Paul's curiosity. He could see the lighter skin of her upper chest and the colour of a blue bra peeking through. Paul willed himself to look away. This definitely was not the time to be sneaking glances. Instead, he looked to Embry to make sure he wasn't ogling Rachel. Thankfully Embry knew what was good for him and he kept his eyes elsewhere.

"Paul, could you take off her choker? It might be too tight around her neck." Paul appreciated Emily giving him a job so that he didn't feel so useless. As gently as he could, Paul slid the silver chain around the base of her neck, blindly trying to locate the clasp. Once he found the clasp, he had the impossible task of trying to open it. His large werewolf hands were good for tearing tough things apart, not gently opening delicate jewelry.

"I don't know how to open it," admitted Paul embarrassedly. Embry snickered. Paul shot him a death glare.

"Let me see," said Emily. She took one quick glance and concluded, "It's a barrel clasp. Just twist in opposite directions." Paul followed her instructions and was pleased at his accomplishment. "Ah, Paul?" called Emily. "She could wake up any minute and I really think it might be better if you're not here when she wakes up."

"What – but – I need to be there for her! I need to explain things to her!"

"I know you do but she's a little shaken up right now so we'll just get her orientated again. We'll make sure she's not afraid of you, maybe give her a few of the bare basics. Then you can take over from there, okay?" That sounded fairly reasonable to Paul, but he had one condition.

"Embry leaves with me then," he said. Paul saw Emily sigh lightly.

"She really needs a familiar face when she wakes up, Paul," said Sam. Paul wasn't going to have it. This was _his_ imprint lying there unconscious and he should be the one to see her when she wakes up. And if he couldn't be the first one she sees, then he sure as hell wasn't going to let Embry be the first she sees. Sam anticipated his protest and said, "You don't have to like it, just do what's best for her." Paul grumbled inwardly. He knew Sam was right.

" _Fine._ But I'm not leaving until I know she's going to wake up." Sam and Emily nodded. "And," continued Paul with his conditions, "Embry better not screw around anymore." Paul glared at Embry. Embry rolled his eyes though he was probably secretly pleased.

"All right," agreed Sam.

Paul kneeled down beside Rachel's body. He touched her forehead tenderly. "She's burning up," said Paul hurriedly. "We have to get her off of Embry." That more than pleased Paul. Embry hooked his arms under her upper body while Sam grabbed her legs. That left Paul to hold the middle of her body to keep her level. Paul assessed the situation and carefully put one arm above her bottom and one arm below it. Though he really did want to feel her bottom, now was not the time or place for that. They lifted her high enough for Embry to stand up so they could lay her down on the couch with her feet propped up.

"Do you think she'll wake up soon?" asked Paul with concern. He wondered if maybe a kiss would bring her back to life like a fairy tale. But Paul wasn't a prince. He was far from one. He wished he could be a prince for Rachel. She deserved to have a man dote on her every want and wish, not some boy with anger issues and no future.

Emily put a small hand on his shoulder. "Most people regain consciousness after two to five minutes. It's just a body's natural reaction to hyperventilation. There was too much carbon dioxide in her blood so there wasn't enough oxygen getting to her brain."

"How in the world does falling to the ground without consciousness sound like a good idea to solve anything?" asked Embry.

"Well, falling to the ground means that the body would be laying horizontally, making it easier for oxygen to flow to the brain. It's fighting less gravity that way."

Paul barely registered what Emily was saying. He was concentrating on Rachel and how fragile she looked right now. Her lips were a purplish-blue colour and her heart was still beating at an unhealthy pace. He felt her forehead again only to find her temperature climbing up. "She's getting warmer," said Paul.

Emily felt Rachel's head for herself as if she didn't trust Paul. Paul was slightly annoyed that she didn't trust his judgement. He was, after all, the one who had superhuman senses. "You're right," agreed Emily. "Embry, can you get a cloth and a bowl of cold water?" Embry left the room with a jog. "What's her heartrate at?"

Paul listened carefully for half a minute and reported, "A hundred and ninety eight." That terrified Paul. For a person who wasn't moving or even conscious, that was an extreme heartrate. Emily nodded.

"And respiration rate?"

Paul focused on Rachel's exposed chest. He felt sleazy for staring at her chest but he had to count the number of times her chest rose and fell to get an accurate reading. Paul did his best to concentrate on the task at hand and not let his mind wander anywhere off limits but her blue bra was such a striking colour against her skin tone. "Twenty five," said Paul. Another alarmingly high number.

"Boys, I'm going to take the rest of her shirt off," warned Emily. It was more of a warning for Paul than Sam. Since imprinting, Sam would never look at another girl the same way. Emily was the only one for him and she knew it. "Then I'm going to remove her undergarment." Paul tensed up as he processed what that would mean.

Paul had the sudden urge to look away now. It's not like he hadn't see _stuff_ before with other girls, but he wanted to respect Rachel and her privacy and not stare at her creepily while she was unconscious. Paul awkwardly looked around the room while he listened to the scissors doing their job. Paul heard the bra clasp unhook. Embry returned with a bowl of sloshing water and a small cloth hanging from the side.

"Woah," Embry whistled. " _That_ escalated quickly." Paul was quick on his feet and sprung towards Embry fist a fist ready to punch Embry's face into a bloody mess.

"Paul! Stop!" commanded Sam in the nick of time. Paul sneered at Embry before lowering his arm. Paul wished he were a half second faster. Even just one punch would have satisfied Paul's anger a tiny bit.

"Embry, you seriously need to _fuck_ off," said Paul as calmly as he could. Rachel was sick and all Embry did was continue to make jokes; jokes that Rachel wouldn't appreciate.

"Chill out. I was just kidding," laughed Embry. It definitely wasn't a funny joke. "I didn't see anything I shouldn't have." His voice was teasing and somehow Paul wasn't sure if Embry was lying or not.

"You're going to stop making such provocative comments. Got it Embry?" said Sam's alpha voice. Embry had no choice but to nod.

Paul sighed. "Can't we get Quil over here? Rachel knows Quil just as well."

"Sorry Paul," said Emily with an apologetic smile. "Quil's over at my sister's with Claire." To some degree, Paul understood and couldn't hold it against him. He was an imprinter too now and he knew what it was like to be away from your imprint.

Paul made a grunt of frustration. "Okay, how about Billy?"

"Fishing with Charlie," said Sam. "Won't be back for a couple of days."

"Leah?" As much as Paul disliked Leah, he'd rather have Leah here right now than Embry. Sam shook his head.

"How about Brady?" he was grasping now. "He'd be a familiar face. I'm sure they've seen each other in passing at least once or twice. Aren't they, like, second cousins two or three times removed or something?" He didn't actually know how they were distantly related. It was just a random guess. Embry made an unimpressed face at Paul. "Well they both have the Ateara lineage. They've got to be related somehow," defended Paul.

"Paul," said Sam. That was enough to shut Paul up.

Embry grinned from ear to ear. Paul was stuck with Embry.

Three minutes later Rachel's temperature, heartrate, and respiration rate all decreased significantly. She shuffled lightly from side to side. That was Paul's cue to leave but he couldn't bring himself to leave her side. All his instincts told him to stay put and be there for her when she wakes up. He wanted to hold her revitalized body and tell her that everything was going to be okay. He wanted to tell her that he wasn't a monster. He was more of a friendly canine who would always protect her.

Sam cocked his head towards the door as a forceful suggestion for Paul to leave. Paul found himself walking out the back door wondering how in the world silent commands could still be alpha commands. Paul had enough time to strip himself of his clothes before he tore into a gray wolf. Paul skulked around the backyard, not wanting to stray too far away from Rachel. He lay down with his head resting on his giant pillow-paws. He closed his eyes and waited for the signal that he could come back in. Naturally, his thoughts drifted to Rachel. He thought about how beautiful her smile was and how she would fit perfectly cuddled against his side. He thought about kissing her lips and all over her exposed skin. Then his thoughts left the PG rating and he found himself wondering what it would be like to romantically be with her.

" _You had better fucking wipe your mind clean and never, ever, have a thought like that again,"_ came the familiar and annoying voice of Jacob Black. Paul hadn't directly connected with Jacob in weeks. The last time he heard from him was about a week after he first disappeared. After that, Jacob got really good at laying under the radar. It was like he was on a different frequency than the rest of the pack members. Clearly, though, Jacob could pick and choose when he wanted to be heard.

" _How long have you been listening in on my thoughts?"_ snarled Paul.

" _Long enough to know you're up to no good as usual."_ So in other words, he hadn't heard the imprint news yet. Paul suppressed that thought and shoved it to the back of his mind. _"Leave her the hell alone. Don't try to screw shit up."_

" _Hey, I'm just looking out for her while her idiot brother abandoned her,"_ said Paul.

" _Oh, right. I'm sure those are your intentions,"_ said Jacob, sarcastically. He wanted to pound Jacob's face. How dare he question his motives when it came to his imprint?

Paul growled at his accusations. He would never do anything Rachel didn't want. _"You don't know shit so stop pretending like you do."_

Jacob didn't appreciate Paul's words. _"Paul,"_ he growled. _"Freaking leave her alone."_

" _No,"_ challenged Paul. He wished Jake were here in la Push for Rachel's benefit, but also so he would be able to tear his throat out so he wouldn't be able to make such degrading insinuations. Paul definitely wanted a good fight right now. In fact, Jacob and Embry could team up together against him and Paul could get his frustrations out all at once.

" _This is your last warning: do not mess with her. I guarantee, you will regret it if you do."_

Paul was not intimidated by Jacob's threat. _"Well this is your last warning then: get over yourself, stop your pansy wallowing, and quit running from shit. The rest of us are tired of picking up your slack. Brady's about to flunk summer school because he's running shifts you should be. And your sister is torturing herself over you. She isn't eating or sleeping properly. Come back for her sake at least."_ Paul conjured up an image of Rachel lying limply on the couch. He hoped that would add a little guilt to Jacob's conscience. There was no need for Paul to let him know that her fainting had nothing to do with his disappearance, though.

" _Oh,"_ said Jacob to nobody in particular.

" _Yeah, 'oh',"_ mocked Paul. _"So, you dipshit, I'm only taking care of her."_

" _Ha!"_ scoffed Jacob.

" _What?"_

" _Does Rach know that?"_ laughed Jacob.

" _Know what?"_

" _That you're 'taking care' of her. 'Cause she'll have a good laugh if you think she needs to be taken care of. Besides, she'll see right through your phoney act."_

" _God, it's not an act! And if you were here and not being such a coward, you'd know how much she actually needs someone to take care of her."_ Paul's thoughts flashed images like a photo projector. First an image of her tired eyes, her meals or lack of, and then an image of her at Emily's house. He didn't mean to replay the scene where Paul heard Emily removing Rachel's shirt and bra, but it slipped from his private collection.

" _Paul,"_ Jake growled, _"you do_ _not_ _want to screw with me. You'd better leave her alone. Leave her out of this!"_

" _What the hell is 'this'?_ " Paul assumed he meant to leave her out of their enmity. Jacob thought that Paul was pursuing Rachel as a game, like it was just a move to provoke Jacob. _"I'm not doing anything to screw with you."_ It was true. Paul wasn't chasing Rachel as a way to punish or taunt Jake. _"God, you think the whole world revolves around you; that people give a shit about you enough to screw with you on purpose. I'll clear that up for you. Nobody gives a damn about you. We have better things to do than sit around and plan how to ruin your already pathetic life."_

" _So what then? You expect me to believe that you've 'magically' just taken an innocent interest in Rach? That, despite your super great track record with girls, you have only good intentions for her? That you've changed from your jackass ways? That you're not going to use her and dump her when you've gotten what you want? Yeah, like that'll ever happen. It would take a miracle to change you. You're a real piece of work. You'd need a shit-ton of magic to change you! Not even an imprint could change – "_ That's when Jacob's form began to tremble violently as he solved the mystery of his own words.

Paul wasn't sure what proceeded after a wolf trembling. He'd seen, and been in the position himself, enough times to know that a trembling human was on the verge of exploding into a mass of furry fury. But a trembling wolf? Was there the possibility of morphing into another creature if provoked enough? Maybe like a cool fire breathing dragon… Or maybe Jake would just explode into a million little pieces and finally be out of his hair for good. _"Fuck you Paul! You had better unimprint or I swear to god I will fucking tear you apart and feed your bloody, dismembered body to fucking leeches!"_ Yep, Jake exploded. He was yelling and seething like a maniac now.

Paul scoffed. Jake didn't scare him. It was then that one of the other wolves phased in. _"Hey guys, what's - oh."_ He cleverly disappeared from the line of fire. Paul couldn't help but laugh at Jacob. For once, Paul didn't feel the uncontrollable rage bubbling from within. He was oddly calm about the whole situation.

" _You don't get to tell me what to do, pal."_

" _You had better be the best fucking imprinter to her. I will fuck you up if you screw up. I will kill you if you ever try to be anything more than her protector,"_ said Jacob, authoritatively.

Paul smiled smugly. _"Hey, she's a woman with needs to be fulfilled."_ Okay, so Paul lied. He did like to deliberately screw with Jacob sometimes.

" _Don't you dare do a fucking thing unless she explicitly asks you to."_

" _Oh, she'll be more than asking. She'll be begging –"_ Okay, so being an imprinter hadn't changed him entirely. He was still Paul, and Paul still liked to push Jake's buttons in a vulgar way. Paul was to Jacob as Embry was to Paul.

Jake roared a howl fit for an alpha. _"That is enough, Paul!"_ Although Jake wasn't his alpha, Paul was feeling the compelling need to bow down on his knees. Paul fought it and managed to stay up. _"You'd fucking better keep all this supernatural shit out of her life! No talk of wolves or vampires or imprints unless hell freezes over or the world ends and she decides she wants to keep you."_

Paul didn't like orders, especially orders from Jake. _"If she asks, I can't lie."_ She was bound to ask, especially after what happened half an hour ago.

" _So don't give her anything to ask about."_ That would be a difficult assignment.

" _What is your deal? Why are you so uptight about the secret? You told Bella when she wasn't even an imprint! Rachel is safer knowing anyway!"_

" _Why?"_ Jake scoffed. " _Like you don't know."_ Paul genuinely didn't understand what this was about. _"She doesn't like you, does she? You've probably tried every move you've got, and she's smart enough to realize you're not good enough for her,"_ narrated Jake, like a detective surmising the events _._ Paul narrowed his eyes at Jake's accuracy. _"And you're desperate enough and selfish enough to do whatever you need to get her to stay."_ Paul didn't like where this was going. _"So you'll play hardball and you'll introduce the supernatural world and everything in it. You'll tell her she's an imprint, that she has a role in this, that she's destined to be with you. You'll use this to trap her in a life she doesn't want because you're just too fucking selfish. "_

" _Fuck off Jacob! You have no idea what you're talking about! You're fucking wrong. Go screw yourself!"_ Paul was so furious he couldn't even come up with a coherent sentence that didn't involve the use of a swear word. Paul was irate mostly because there was some truth to Jacob's words, only Paul's version sounded much less manipulative and far more romantic.

" _God,_ " groaned Jacob. " _Of all the shitty luck. Rach had such a bright future ahead of her. Could've had any guy she wanted. Now she's stuck with you. And like the deadweight you are, you're going to drag her down to rock bottom until she drowns._ "

Paul had enough of this. He wanted to phase back but he was so angry that it was impossible to condense all his rage into a small six foot human. His go-to rage suppressor was Rachel and Jacob wasn't going to appreciate that. _"The following images may be disturbing and are not suitable for all audiences, especially for people that are complete assholes like you."_ Paul imitated the warning before graphic images on the news were shown. Jacob let one last growl rip through his throat before breaking the connection and likely phasing back to a human so he could punch something or tear something.

That left Paul to his content thoughts of Rachel. A lot of the guys jokingly suggested that he take up yoga to find his centre and control his anger and all that stuff. He always thought that was just a load of baloney but he could really see how it could help. After finding Rachel, his other half, the centre of his universe, the centre of his entire being, he was much more able to control his anger. He phased back and had just enough time to pull on his shorts and shirt when Sam came out and gave him the signal.

Paul cautiously entered the house. He passed by Sam and Emily who were heading upstairs to give them some privacy, or at least pretend to give them privacy. Sam could obviously hear everything that was going on. Paul found Rachel sitting on the couch beside a half-naked Embry. Embry seemed to have lost his shirt and Rachel seemed to have found it. Obviously she would need a shirt to wear since hers was cut up, but did it have to be Embry's shirt? Couldn't she wear something of Emily's? Now she was going to smell like rotten Embry. Paul would love her no matter what she smelled like, but this was really pushing it.

Paul watched Embry leave her side and exit through the front door. Paul eyed Rachel, trying to gauge her reaction. She didn't look scared anymore, which was great, but she didn't look too happy either. She had a hard look on her face, like she was analyzing Paul. Paul sat down on the edge of the nearest armchair. "Hey," he said gently.

Rachel responded with a non-verbal gaze of her eyes. Rachel's lower jaw moved as she sucked on something. It smelled like cherry Halls. "How are you feeling?" asked Paul.

Rachel pushed the square cough drop into one cheek before she spoke. "Fine," she said, though her voice was rough and betraying. Paul wondered when Rachel would stop pretending to be fine when she clearly wasn't. Jacob was right. Rachel didn't want to be taken care of. But everyone needs to be taken care of every once in a while. Paul wanted her to know that it was okay to need help. Needing help wouldn't make her any less capable or independent.

"Can I get you some hot tea or something?" asked Paul. Rachel shook her head and looked away in despair. "Okay. Um, so I know you're probably really freaked out right now, but I swear I can explain everything. Just give me, like, five minutes and –"

"I'm sorry," she said quickly and quietly, like she wanted to spit it out and get it over with.

"You're – what? You're _sorry_? For what?" He just scared the living daylights out of her by phasing into what she probably thought was just a mythical creature and mauling what she probably thought was a human, and then she says _she's_ sorry.

"For all the hysterics back there. That must have been really rattling to see." Rachel had it all backwards! "That's the first time that it's ever happened…" She buried her face in her hands and sighed. Paul got up from his seat and joined her on the couch. He tenderly took both wrists in his hands and pulled her hands away from her face. She resisted at first but gave in when Paul's strength overpowered her own. Paul delicately held her hands in a queen-fingertip-like handshake hold. He rubbed soothing circles on the backs of her hands.

"Please don't apologize, Rachel. That was a normal reaction," he told her. She pulled her hands out of his grasp and looked down. "I'm sorry you had to see that back there… I really wish you didn't. I hoped that you'd never have to see something like that ever in your life," he told her honestly. He never wanted Rachel to ever see a vampire. He hoped they would remain to be mythical creatures to her so she'd never have to know what was out there. Rachel shook her head furiously and squeezed her eyes shut. Paul recognized that she wasn't ready to accept what she saw. "Come here," he said in in a comforting tone. To his surprise, Rachel obeyed and shuffled closer to him until she was barely touching his side. Paul closed the rest of the gap and pulled her into a hug.

Paul couldn't restrain himself anymore. He lightly kissed the top of her head with just enough pressure that she had to have felt it. He was glad when she didn't pull away. Paul rested his head atop hers. "I know it's hard to process and talk about, but there are a few things you have to know about." To hell with what Jacob said. Rachel needed to know. "What you saw back there; when I turned into a wolf –"

Rachel shook her head against his shoulder. "Stop," she begged in her raspy, broken voice. Paul pulled away to get a better look at her face. Rachel took this as an opportunity to retreat away from him back to her cushion on the right side. Paul instantly regretted his decision to pull away.

"Rachel," he said warily. "I know it was weird and scary, but I think you'll feel better about it if I could just help you out and explain –"

Rachel pursed her lips into a frown. She shook her head again. "I don't need your help," she snapped. She put a hand on her forehead in exasperation. "I need a freaking psychiatrist," she mumbled. She exhaled a shaky breath.

"Then tell _me_ what about this is bothering you." Why would she rather tell a complete stranger about her problems than tell him, a sort-of-stranger who is madly in love with her? Why couldn't she just open up to him? "We'll get through this together." Rachel shook her head again. She wasn't going to feel better by ignoring what she saw. She needed to talk about it. "That man you saw – he's not a human. He's not a real human."

"I _know_ he wasn't real!" she cried in frustration. "I know none of it was real!"

"Wait, what? No, Rachel, it was real. That really happened."

"Paul," she ground out. "I _know_ what a hallucination is. That's all it was. I'm going to get some medications or whatever, I'll get it all fixed."

This was a way out. He could let Rachel carry on thinking she hallucinated and he wouldn't have to explain the supernatural world. Maybe Jacob was right. Maybe he shouldn't be roping her into this world when she might not even chose to be with him. He couldn't let her go on thinking she was psychotic though. "I turned into a giant grey wolf. I attacked a vampire who looked like a Voldemort's twin," he told her seriously. He hoped that he could give enough details so that he could convince her that it was real.

" _Stop! I am not having a psychotic episode right now. I don't need you to play along. Don't humor me because you think it's what you do for a person experiencing hallucinations. I freaking know what psychosis is and I'm not having an episode right now._ " Rachel was convinced that she had hallucinated the whole fiasco.

"But – " he wanted to argue.

" _Please_ ," she begged. Her voice was raspier than it was just minutes ago. She needed to rest her voice before she lost it completely. "Can we please just forget everything that happened? And nobody else needs to know about this."

Paul swallowed hard. "Okay," he conceded. "But if you need somebody to talk to, I'm always ready to listen." Paul looked at her until she finally brought her eyes up to meet his. They locked eyes for a quick second before Rachel broke their connection and moved her eyes to look at anything but Paul. He leaned over and wrapped his arms around Rachel in a comforting hug. "I'm here for you, Rach. Whatever you need, I'll be here for you," he whispered into her ear. His lips were dangerously close to the shell of her ear. All he had to do was move infinitesimally closer and his lips would meet her ear.

Rachel melted against his side and pressed her face into his chest. She snuggled closer and inhaled his scent. She sighed contentedly as Paul brushed his lips on top of her head. Just as Paul felt like her walls were coming down, she brought her arm in between them and pushed against his chest, causing him to release her. Rachel looked at him with a melancholic expression. He wanted to ask her what was wrong but she stood up from her seat and made her way to the front door. "Where are you going?"

"Uh, home?" she said with aggravation. Hurray, more frenzied signals from Rachel. First she seemed to appreciate his comfort, then she seemed to be forlorn, and now she was agitated. He just couldn't figure her out. Rachel patted her pockets and grumbled. "Embry has my keys," she said with realization. She headed down the driveway with Paul hot on her heels. " _Where_ are you going?" she asked.

"I'm going to walk you home," said Paul innocently.

"No," said Rachel, although Paul wasn't looking for a yes or no answer.

"Do you even know which way home is?" he questioned.

Rachel's narrow eyes crept to the side to eye Paul. "Which way is River Road?" she huffed. There was no way he was going to let her walk home alone, especially not after tonight's events. In fact, he never wanted her to be alone or vulnerable ever again. He wanted to always be with her so he could keep her out of danger… but Rachel probably wasn't going to have any of that.

"Look, your dad is going to shoot me if I let you wander around by yourself at night." Rachel turned away from Paul and let out a sigh before turning back with a softer expression. Paul grinned at how quickly her anger supressed. Knowing she was in a better mood he added a playful plea. "Come on, Rachel. If you care about my safety at all, you'll let me walk you home."

"Fine," she said monotonously. Paul couldn't tell whether she appreciated his humour or not.

"It's that way." Paul pointed westward to the dark dirt path. There wasn't much lighting on the path there were going to take, but Paul would have no trouble seeing.

"Great," she said. They set down the dirt path at a quick pace. Paul wished that she would slow down and go for a leisurely walk with him, but he knew she probably just wanted to get home. It was a rough day for the both of them. It was a rollercoaster of day filled with enjoyment, heartbreak, and terror.

Speaking or terror, Paul noticed that Rachel was still skittish. Her eyes would widen and hear head would snap in the direction of the sudden sound no matter how normal the sound was. A bat flapped its wings and glided above their heads; Rachel froze in place before realizing it was harmless. An owl hooted and Rachel almost threw herself into Paul in attempt to run away from the 'danger'. She even jumped off the ground when a cricket started chirping.

Paul instantly grabbed her hand and laced his fingers through hers for comfort and reassurance. "I'm not scared," said Rachel, defensively. She made a feeble attempt to unlock her fingers from his but Paul kept a firm, but not hostage-like, hold. Paul raised his free hand in surrender and he shook his head.

"I know you're not," agreed Paul. "But _I_ am." Rachel raised her eyebrows at Paul in an unamused fashion but the smile that played at her lips gave Paul a different impression. Paul grinned at Rachel, eliciting a full smile from Rachel; the one he loved so much. Paul wondered how long her good mood would last before she tried to push him away again. That seemed to be the pattern. He would try to get close, she would let him in, then she'd kick him out and bruise his ego a little more each time.

Rachel shivered and brought Paul out of his musing. Paul wished he had a jacket to give her. All he had to offer was his long sleeved shirt. He let go of her hand and crossed his arms and lifted from the bottom of his shirt. "What are you _doing_?" she exclaimed. "Why are you _stripping_?"

"You're cold," came Paul's answer. He flipped the shirt inside out quickly before extending it to Rachel.

"Put your shirt back on!" hissed Rachel in a low voice as if she didn't want the neighbours to hear. Paul watched her gaze quickly travel over the length of his torso, hopefully liking what she was seeing. "And no I'm not," disagreed Rachel. The goosebumps on her skin argued otherwise.

"It's a known fact that small people get colder faster than larger people. You know, with the whole ratio of surface area to body mass science-y stuff." She still didn't take his shirt from his hand. Paul rolled his eyes and grabbed her wrist and pressed her hand against his warm chest. "See how warm I am compared to you? You're a tiny little icicle." He must have worn her down because she finally accepted his shirt. She slipped it on and let it fall down to her mid-thigh. She hugged herself and smiled with her eyes closed.

"Your shirt is still so warm. It's like fresh laundry from the dryer," she cooed. He was finally able to provide something for her. That made Paul feel really good about himself, even if it was as little as keeping her warm. "Ohh, it's so cozy…" she muttered. When she was finished relishing in the heat of his shirt, she picked up his hand and started walking again. As pathetic as it was, Paul wanted to scream with delight. She held his hand! That was the signal Paul had been waiting for. It was like she was finally accepting his feelings for her and she just might be returning them! He couldn't help but internally explode with happiness.

Paul felt like this was a turning point in their relationship; that things would only get better from here. There would be no more flip flopping between liking him and not liking him. No more gazing deeply into his eyes and then looking away embarrassedly. No more enjoying his hugs and then pushing him away.

Of course Paul wasn't upset with Rachel for being so indecisive. Imprint feelings were complicated, especially when she didn't have a clue what was going on. Emily once told him how difficult it was at first. She tried to ignore Sam and all Sam's affections but the battle really wasn't between herself and Sam. It was a battle between her brain and her feelings. She was torn up. She didn't want to feel that way about Sam but she couldn't help but want him so badly. It was a confusing and complicated mess. The internal conflict was tearing her apart but all she had to do was give in and she'd never be unhappy again.

"Rachel." Paul stopped in place and pulled Rachel towards him. "Your lips are purple," he whispered. Rachel brought a hand up and let her fingers ghost over her lower lip. "We should take care of that," he murmured as he stepped closer. Rachel tilted her head upwards and looked into Paul's eyes. Paul brought a hand to the side of her face. Rachel's eyes fluttered closed and Paul's followed suit. He closed the gap and pressed his lips to hers in a sweet kiss.

Her lips were soft and cool, as expected. What was unexpected was her boldness. She parted her lips and took Paul's lower lip between her own, effectively creating a lip-lock. Her arms reached up to rest against his chest. Her dainty hands were ice cold on his chest. The coldness was like an electric shock to his system… or maybe it was just her touch in general that caused a spark of electricity to jump through his skin. She lightly skimmed her fingertips over his skin as her hands made their way up to his neck.

Paul warily trailed the tip of his tongue against her lip. Her lips opened on instinct and let Paul's tongue enter her mouth. Her mouth was warm and inviting. Paul brought his tongue to hers in gentle strokes. She returned his kiss, caressing his tongue with hers using more pressure than he did.

Paul's free hand made its way to her waist, where he rubbed back and forth. Paul wished he could slide his hand under her shirt and make skin contact, but her shirt hem was all the way down by her knees. Instead, Paul let his hand slide upwards to her shoulder blades. He pressed her body closer to his as he felt the coolness of her body absorb his heat.

Rachel was first to pull away for air. Paul was so enraptured with kissing her that he forgot about regular humans' need to breathe more than himself. He kissed her forehead tenderly as she caught her breath. One hand flew off his neck and covered her mouth. "Oh, shit," she murmured. It wasn't a good _oh shit_ either. Her other hand came off his body and slapped itself over the hand already on her mouth. Paul suddenly felt empty without her touch. He felt an odd coldness without her hands on him. Paul wasn't a scientist or anything, but he was pretty sure removing something cold shouldn't make him colder.

Paul wasn't sure what to say. She seemed to be enjoying the kiss and he _certainly_ enjoyed it. He didn't know what was wrong. She remained in his arms and didn't try to back away, which had to mean something good. "Rach?" he said. "What's wrong?" Her hands dropped to her side. She opened her mouth but no words came out. "What? Is your voice totally shot now?" he asked with a little humour.

Rachel looked away. "I shouldn't have done that." She sighed with regret. "That was so inappropriate," she muttered.

"There's nothing wrong with kissing," he told her gently.

"You're _seventeen_. I'm _twenty one_ ," she reminded him.

Paul sighed. It always went back to his age. "Rachel, do you like me?" She didn't answer. Paul had to admit that kind of stung his pride. Paul put a finger under her chin and tilted her head up so that she had to look him in the eyes. "Cause I like you. I think you're smart and beautiful and interesting. You're the most amazing person I've ever met. So yeah, I like you a lot. And if you like me then there's no issue here; we've done nothing wrong. Love has no limits, no boundaries, no restrictions."

"You're very sweet Paul, don't get me wrong, but this just isn't right. I'm an adult… you're just a minor."

"Did it feel wrong?" asked Paul. He wasn't going to give up this time. Not when he was so close to breaking down all the walls. Rachel nodded meekly. "During or after the kiss?"

"After." At least she was being honest.

"Exactly, because you're feeling with your brain when you should be feeling with your heart. When you listen to you heart you know you're doing the right thing." Rachel stayed quiet. No rebuttal from her was a good sign. "But I promise I won't kiss you again until you're ready." Paul knew he had his work cut out for him. Her lips were always so pink and tempting. Especially now that he got a taste of what her kisses would be like, he was going to crave them even more. Paul wondered forehead and cheek kisses were off limits as well.

Paul released her from his hold. She stepped back but kept her eyes on Paul. She bit the corner of her lip. "Can I still hold your hand?" he asked. Rachel gave him a long wistful look before shaking her head. Paul felt his heart sink but he tried not to let it show. "Okay," he said, trying not to feel so lousy and rejected. Rachel shivered again at the loss of her heat source. Paul wished he could hold her tightly against him to warm her up but he doubted that was allowed if he wasn't allowed to hold her hand.

Paul was putting up a strong front while on the inside he was a disaster. He wasn't used to rejection in general, but rejection from someone he cares so much about was a hundred times more painful than usual. She might have rejected him today, but sooner or later she was going to accept her feelings for him and he'd be waiting for her until then. Besides, she didn't totally reject him. She _did_ kiss him passionately… before she regretted it all. So, really, she did admit that she likes him back. And that was progress.

Thirty awkward and solitary minutes later, they arrived at the Black's home. Paul walked Rachel all the way up the steps. He waited for her to unlock the door before he said, "Are you going to be okay alone?"

"My dad's home," she said she began to push open the door.

Paul shook his head. "Your dad is staying over at Chief Swan's house for a couple days. You know, fishing."

"Oh." Rachel bit the inside of her lip. Her face paled. "Yeah, I'll be fine." Rachel didn't sound so sure of herself. She was still terror-stricken from the bizarre events of the night. In fact, Paul, too, was pretty worried about her safety after the vamp attack. He was planning to stay close by, probably under her window again. He wanted to make sure that no vamp would ever come near her again. "Um, Paul?"

"Hm?"

"It's pretty late… or early, depending on how you want to look at it." It was almost four in the morning. "Do you want to stay over here? You must be pretty tired. And it's a long way for you to get home…" she said quickly. Paul grinned inwardly. She didn't have to make up excuses to get him to stay over to protect her. He never wanted to be far from her.

"Sure, that sounds great." Paul followed Rachel into the house and locked the door behind him.

Author's note:

Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned for more! Hopefully Rachel's got all her confusing feelings sorted out now… but we'll see how their little sleepover round two goes!

Leave me a review/comment/question/suggestion/just say hi!


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